


Frozen-the Epic

by kshitij1997



Category: Frozen (2013), Frozen (Disney Movies), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Abandonment, Abduction, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Parents, Canon Compliant, Crimes & Criminals, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Historical References, Macabre, Major Original Character(s), Parent-Child Relationship, Rage, Redemption, Revolution, Self-Esteem Issues, Supernatural Elements, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kshitij1997/pseuds/kshitij1997
Summary: An epic version of the famous story that we all love. A saga of tough choices and tougher consequences, a poem telling how actions can resonate for decades into the future. A reckoning where our characters are pushed to their absolute limits. A chronicle of deep friendships, bitter rivalries and fierce hatreds, A tale of love, intrigue and ice.
Relationships: Agnarr/Iduna (Disney), Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Rapunzel
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	1. The many valleys of death

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome everybody!
> 
> This is my very first attempt at a fanfiction for any creative property, so be warm and encouraging please. All frozen characters belong to Disney, the only thing I possess is this head cannon and some original characters.
> 
> With that established, let's begin :D

_Winter solstice, 1812, Northern Arendelle._

_King Runeard proceeded with caution, for the northern mountains of Arendelle had claimed many souls through the centuries. The absolute monarch despised these mountains, for these peaks brought an unpredictability, a danger which rendered him weakened in the face of adversity._

_He could face the entire world head on, but a revolution? An uprising? Any upstart challenging his divine right? King Runeard considered himself merciful that he led such wayward people to their doom in the most painless way possible; rolling their heads from the red theatre, as the French preferred to call it. As much as he swore to never forgive the French for the revolting ideas of civil liberties that they threw onto an enlightened but unsuspecting continent, he was not averse to learning new methods the terror had brought with it._

_His mind drifted towards the decision of building the great dam, which was the unwitting cause of his northern expedition._

_Those vile ungrateful bastards, he thought, after all that I have done for them, they turn to magic to oppose me? I'll set the fuckers straight once and for all._

_He felt so close to his goal, just one last chance to draw those cowards out in the open and wipe them out. That thought brought back memories of it all came to this._

_His brutal path of subjugation had worked to his benefit. For the Northurldra, once the most powerful minority in the empire, through a system of erasure, propaganda and eradication imposed by the sovereign, had been reduced to guerrilla warfare, a far cry from the great cavalry charge of the ancestral Northurldra plains._

_It was on that great battle in the autumn of 1799, when he set the standards for Arendelle's approach to its marginalised people and ushered a new era of barbarity. A strategy that he had learnt from that dwarf of Corsica who had gone to cast his entire shadow over all of Europe._

_A ploy that would make all battles decided before they were fought._

_Like Napoleon, King Runeard fought dirty._

_The Northuldra cavalry, over fifteen thousand strong, charged with all the might that they could muster, with a combination of cutlasses, spears, and clubs, and with their trusted reindeer mounts, for an all-out charge against the biggest pain of their existence._

_Though massive in strength, the Northurldra made the mistake of leading themselves into a ravine, and with no way out, they were doomed. Runeard ordered an artillery barrage so horrific that it spread word of his capabilities and depths of hatred across Europe._

_The Northuldra had knives, swords, spears and a few muskets at best. It was no contest._

_Just a bloody massacre._

_An event so devastating, that a rumour spread that the stench and smell of gunpowder and corpses persisted in the valley of death to the present day._

_Runeard merely snickered, for he still remembered it as the most beautiful battlefield he had ever seen._

* * *

He was disturbed from his reverie by his guards, who brought the scouts sent out for reconnaisance. The scout began, "Your Majesty, the main Northurldra contingent has been sighted five miles from here, further north into the mountains."

"How many?"

"About two thousand, your majesty."

"How many fighters? Any non-combatants and cavalry?"

"I reckon about a couple hundred soldiers, the contingent is mainly of non-combatants, around a hundred in terms of cavalry."

King Runeard was pleased. "Very well, we'll be done with them in no time."

"I'm not finished your majesty. They seem to be following the fifth spirit into a passage from the North Sea in order to escape into international waters.

The king turned purple with rage, "WHAT?! THAT CURSED SHAPE-SHIFTING ANIMAL DARES TO TRY AND ESCAPE ME!? I'LL ERASE THAT SWINE'S PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE!"

The king's commander, Carolus, brought him back to his senses. "Your majesty, if the fifth spirit is leading them, they'll have the winds, the weather and possibly even the terrain on their side, we must not take them lightly. We need to be tactful."

The king gave a solemn nod and continued "Yes. We need to pull them back from the coast somehow and trap them in the mountains where we should be able to smoke them out to the last man, woman or child."

With that said, the king signalled his army to take positions and commander Carolus proceeded to burn massive cartloads of smokeberries, a plant whose leaves were notorious for a nasty stench upon burning, and for releasing a poisonous smoke that could blind people for a long time.

To make matters worse, the Arendellians resorted to use damp wood, to make the smoke even more aggravating.

As was to be expected, the smoke rose high, the odour made the reindeer cavalry mad, and blinded the people who got close, unknowingly dragged by their loyal steeds towards destruction.

All according to plan, the king thought, let this revolting scent betray them and bring them to their deaths, this time I'll make sure—

His thoughts were disturbed by a rumble in the mountains, which started as a mere tremble, loosening the thick blanketed snow, but as sure as it could be, the snow caught momentum and deadly speed as it rolled down the mountains, headed straight for the Arendellian contingent.

"AVALANCHE!" screamed the ever observant scout, enough to alert everyone but not enough to save everyone. The snow came straight and true for the infantry, which was decimated in the barrage of sheer snow, to no more use to anyone any longer.

It could have taken even the king down, had it not been for the king's personal bodyguard, Mathias, who had pulled the king away from the infantry at the last moment. The plants were no longer burning, but the Northuldra were now out in the open, a shell of their former fearsome selves. The Arendellian gunners were itching for action and let loose.

The gunners' barrage was brutal but short lived, however it was enough to turn the mountain pass into a morbid, gory and perverse cousin of the valley of death. The cannons were not picky about what or who they mowed down, neither were the gunners.

What cut the barrage short was the fifth spirit itself, twisting and turning out of the avalanche and taking out the gunners in cold blood, closely followed by the Northuldra crack troops taking advantage of the stranded army and tearing it at the seams.

The king proceeded to dive into the melee when a familiar voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"FATHER!"

The king turned back violently to find the crown prince Agnarr. The mere sight of him distracted Runeard so much that for a few long agonizing minutes he forgot where he was.

"Stupid boy, what are you doing here? I told you this is no place for you."

"And I told you it's not worth the bloodshed, leave them alone. I guess an inability to follow orders or advice runs in the family."

"You want to discuss that now?! With these killers inching closer?"

('That' refers to a bitter fight between father and son, but Agnarr knew better than to prod in that direction.)

"No, I just need you to get out of this alive."

"Don't worry, I'll make it."

Their dialogue was interrupted by Mathias, when he got to the king's vantage point.

"Your Majesty, what is the crown prince doing here?!"

"I should ask you that, Mathias, but don't worry, you have an opportunity to correct yourself."

The reconciliation was cut short by a fearsome beast leaping in front of them.

There it was, the fearsome fifth spirit, not animalistic enough to be reduced to dumb chattel, and too vicious to be considered human, and too powerful to be ignored.

As much as Runeard hated to admit it, there was a certain beauty to those characteristics and a certain sense of respect to that power, something he had always yearned for. Nevertheless, this wasn't the time for such thoughts.

"Mathias, get the boy out of here, and don't look back."

"Your Majesty!—" Mathias began, but his majesty wasn't listening anymore. He was already in a one on one with the fifth spirit.

"Father!" prince Agnarr screamed, but the wind was knocked out of him when Mathias grabbed him and ran from the scene for both their lives.

* * *

It was a tough path for the king's personal guard, as he was responsible for both himself and the prince. Desperately trying to avoid the carnage, Mathias almost made it despite the smoke and the destruction but was hit by a blunt blow onto the back of his head, enough to disorient him, but not to knock him out.

As for the prince, he was fortunate enough to not be hit, but the battle had exhausted him, and he almost passed out when he felt a familiar pair of hands hold him.

"Iduna?" the prince started weakly.

"Ssh, it's alright, I'm okay" Iduna answered the question. "We need to get out of here"

"I'm sorry your town became a battlefield, I could have done more, I—"

"Calm down, and get on the wagon, quick."

The said wagon was part of a supply chain following the king's army, trying their best to turn around now that army was in spate, to save what they could.

The prince and the village girl were on the wagon when Mathias came to his senses and reached them. "Your highness, who is this?"

"She's a friend, she saved me when you lost consciousness."

"My eternal gratitude to you young girl. However, your highness must leave at once, I can't guarantee your safety here any longer."

"Come with us, Mathias. Please"

"A thousand pardons your highness, but I can't abandon his majesty. Now go!"

With that, the trusty guard ran back into the thick of it. Just as the wagon train started for home, a gunshot pierced through the air, followed by a shriek that was almost feminine.

Both Agnarr and Iduna could only look back in horror as out of nowhere, in an instant, a major explosion occurred, resulting in a fire across the mountains. The fires were greedy for oxygen, and the winds rushed to feed the inferno. The situation further deteriorated when a massive earthquake jolted the mountainside, resulting in a landslide that nearly destroyed the Arendellian supply train.

As wagons went down left and right, a sudden jolt nearly knocked Agnarr down in the ravine below. He would have been gone forever, if it weren't for Iduna holding him on for dear life. She pulled him up with all the strength she had and got him back on the surviving wagon.

The shock of near death made the prince faint in her arms. As she made him more comfortable, she could only look back heartbroken, as the once thriving countryside was reduced to a graveyard of blood, fire, smoke and snow, which was soon covered by a thick fog, through which nothing could pass in or out.

Iduna uttered a solemn prayer to the lost, and let out a kulning, which echoed and haunted the mountains, even as the dilapidated wagons made their way back to Arendelle.


	2. The order of an Arendelle past and present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically how Arendelle became the kingdom we know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the second chapter up now!  
> All frozen characters belong to Disney, all I own is this head-cannon and the original characters.  
> A warning for playing fast and loose with some history, please don’t lynch me _/\\_.
> 
> With that out of the way, on with the story :D

Chapter 2 – The order of an Arendelle past and present

_The Kulning had begun as a practice in ancient Arendelle as a way for shepherdesses and cowgirls to call their sheep and cattle after a long day of grazing the plains. With the passage of time however, it was recognized by the native people how effective the Kulning could be as a way of communication in the northern plains. A woman skilled in Kulning could transmit messages across the country, ranging from glad tidings to blood feuds and war cries. This peculiar quality of the mode of expression in question came to define the social culture of the nation, with the Kulning heralds serving as beacons to bring in a good harvest or a call for aid. There was once a moment in the middle ages when the heralds managed to alert the entire country towards a devastating plague which undoubtedly helped save many lives and livelihoods._

_The plague arrived despite all preparations and ravaged the country. Nevertheless, the position of the heralds was solidified into the Arendellian culture as guardians of the nation. A herald was protected by law, and the practice took on a sacrosanct and spiritual meaning as the knowledge of interpretation was only passed within the direct family of the herald. Popularised as ‘the voice of the nation’ during the renaissance, the Kulning became a power statement in the country, the voice that united the northern mountains and plains to the southern rivers and coasts._

_For all the similarities in people that the Kulning celebrated, it couldn’t account for how differently the north and the south were blessed and cursed in equal measure. The north had far more resources, even if the southern societies were far more developed. And while southern Arendelle regularly courted wealth makers, intellectuals and scholars in its high society, it had the extremely unfortunate vulnerability of having one of the very few warm water ports in all northern Europe. A reality that left it open to regular attempts at usurpation and war. Furthermore, by making southern Arendelle a major education centre in Europe, the south often found itself facing revolutionary ideas and fringe groups. Adding the general apathy of the north, who disapproved of the high class living southern society, completely removed from nature, the people-nations drifted further apart, such that even the voice could not unite them._

_Tensions notwithstanding, there still existed a grudging peace and cordial relations between the north and the south, a reality which came crashing down in the seventeenth century with the horrific thirty years war. A war Arendelle wanted no part in but was coerced into joining due to union of marriage between the crown of Arendelle and the Habsburgs, in an uncharacteristic move for both royal families, as there was no common relative between them. If history were a reliable witness, it would dictate the defeat and destruction of both the royal families in northern Europe. While the Habsburgs would never gain a foothold in Arendelle again, the crown survived by the skin of its teeth. The crown paid a heavy price for the privilege however, namely the death of one of the greatest kings of northern Europe, Gustavus Vasa, who had almost singlehandedly saved the country from the jaws of the Holy Roman Empire. While the south was more forgiving to wartime obligations, the north was absolutely horrified at the taboo implications the Habsburgs brought to the crown and refused to support the war effort. It was a miracle that the Arendellians managed to eke out a win in the Baltic despite abandoning the Habsburgs. Nevertheless, even as Arendelle enjoyed a new boost of power, the Habsburg bloodline further cracked the bonds between the south and the north, which had started calling itself Northurldra. While the regional name was recognized, never had the sparsely populated north had openly used it in defiance. Throughout all this, the voice persisted, dutifully sending messages back and forth, bringing the news of the audacity of the north to the south. This further grew the enmity between the two regions as the age of empires dawned in Europe. While the south used its famous resourcefulness and ship routes around the world to build the empire, the Northurldra stuck to its beliefs of frugal living, and fell behind as a result._

_In an attempt to find direction in the brave new world, they turned to an institution called the fifth spirit. While the figure was a vestige of ancient times and had been dismissed as superstition by the south, the Northurldra maintained the customs and rituals of the fifth spirit, coronating said figure on the same basis one would crown kings, which further distanced the Northurldra from Arendelle and as a result, the Northurldra fell back even further._

_While Arendelle made a few colonies in the Indian subcontinent, China and the East Indies(*Indonesia), the stagnant region in its own backyard had started to look embarrassing. To save face, the south started contacting the Northurldra, who saw how the wind was blowing and gracefully accepted the invitation to cooperate. Things looked up for Arendelle as Carolus Rex, the man who led the nation to innumerable victories against the Southern Isles and Russia. However, it was short lived as the King died in battle, breaking all cooperation between the two regions. The relations mostly stagnated after that, as Arendelle supported the French to defeat in the seven years war which further reduced the nation’s standing in Europe._

_The regions further drifted apart as the French took a step closer to the revolution, to which Arendelle responded by doing something they had never done before, something that would become a core strategy for the country to show defiance and protectionism. The country was closed to the mainland for over a decade, avoiding the cataclysmic war between the French and the rest of the continent. Many scholars, philosophers, merchants and businessmen fled to Arendelle during this period, whom Arendelle was all too pleased to accept despite the isolation, which further led to a divide between the Northurldra and Arendelle. The new immigrants didn’t care much for the north and preferred to look to the west. As a result, the crown started dealing with the fledgling United States. The crown of Arendelle was the first to recognize the sovereignty of the new nation, so the United States more than welcomed Arendelle into its sphere. It was this Arendelle that was left to crown prince Runeard, who in the best Arendellian tradition, went against all of Europe and made a deal with the French directory and vowed to back Robespierre. However, Robespierre’s head, bloodlust, propensity to roll heads and power grew quicker than what his fellow Jacobins would allow, so they used the national razor to make sure he didn’t crumble under the strain. A far cry from a man who in his former career as a lawyer, held a well-known disdain for the death penalty._

_Ah well, at least they left the general of the French army alive. The general with whom King Runeard had built a correspondence starting back in his days in France receiving military education. It was Napoleon, who took power in the ensuing vacuum of leadership after the directory was left toothless. Various deals were struck, the gates to the country were opened, the Corsican general made short work of the rest of the war. The era of Arendelle and France’s rise to dominance in the continent had begun._

_All this while the heralds worked tirelessly, communicating everything throughout the country, which held the nation together even as it drifted apart, owing to the adage: if the heralds fall silent, Arendelle would fall._

_It was this era in which Runeard ascended onto the world stage and built the fearsome reputation of a tyrant, displaying in full color the Habsburg entitlement and madness that Europe feared. To this man, the death of his queen in childbirth was but a trivial price to pay in his quest of consolidation. If there was any genuine affection or joy left in him, it was due to his heir, Prince Agnarr._

_The prince was lightly built but was a frequent unwilling host to various ailments and illness. King Runeard doted on the boy as a toddler, but as the prince came into the age of reason, he displayed wisdom far beyond his years, and knowledge well cultivated, for when illness confined him to his bed, he grew his passion for books on science and statecraft, and more importantly for stories and tales. It was this spirited lad who often questioned his father’s murkier intentions:_

_“Is a dam really the best idea? That massive architecture could be a powder keg waiting to go off.”_

_“You’re about three-quarters of Europe away, son. For the true powder keg, you need to approach the Crimea or the Balkans.” The king said with a bemused expression._

_“Father, this is serious.”_

_“Do you see me laughing?”_

_“No, what I mean to say is that the Northurldra are not very sympathetic to your cause, and a dam is giving them further impetus to oppose you. They can use it as a fortress, we can’t.”_

_“The military implications of the dam are the farthest thoughts of my mind, son. The northern backdrop is a source of indignity for me. The rest of the continent is experimenting with steam and coal, and those peasants are content with their medieval equipment? Never. If anything, I am doing them a service by integrating them and bringing them into the modern age with us.”_

_“It still could be a problem, though.” Agnarr mused_

_“Oh take a breather boy, or your hair would turn grey before mine does.” The king laughed._

_As much as the king enjoyed teasing the prince on his lack of mirth, he recognized the mind for politics that the kid had. It was this kid who advised him not to get involved in Spain as Napoleon proceeded to bring Iberia into a crisis of succession, this boy who started a friendly correspondence with the crown prince of the northern Germanic kingdom of Corona, which became an alliance that brought Arendelle the backing of Prussia and the Southern Isles(The characteristic Arendellian zeal and skill in making deals became a force to be reckoned with in the hands of the prince). A fact that put the father and son at odds frequently. These odds were mostly harmless and good-natured, with genuine concern behind them, but it all came to a head in the spring of 1812, when Napoleon was about to launch a physically, economically and emotionally devastating invasion into the Russian empire to bring Tsar Alexander the first to heel._

_Added to this was the military expedition in the north, which didn’t make things easier._

_By then, the prince had overcome the ailments he had suffered earlier and had grown in stature. At the age of fourteen, he could almost see eye-to-eye with his father._

_Almost._

* * *

_Mid-March, southern Arendelle, 1812_

_“What do you mean you can’t lead?!” the king bellowed “I didn’t raise a coward!”_

_“I chose not to lead, not because I can’t, but because these wars are a fool’s errand.” The prince answered calmly._

_“I didn’t ask you for your opinion.” “You should have. Dear uncle Napoleon is screwing himself with this conflict.”_

_“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF HIM IN THIS MANNER?! HUH! I have known for over twenty-five years now, long before I ever met your mother. I am to just abandon him in his time of need?!”_

_“If you really cared, you would’ve stopped him. The Russians aren’t to be fucked with.” A rare poor choice of words for the crown prince._

_“Where did you learn such beautiful language, huh?! From the girl you’ve been meeting?! Has SHE BEEN POSIONING YOUR MIND AGAINST ME?!” retorted the king after smacking Agnarr in the face for that comment._

_“Who?” Asked Agnarr as he nursed his cheek. “Don’t you DARE play coy with me. You thought I wouldn’t find out?! Whatever childish games you play, that’s your business. When the fairer gender gets involved, any fooling around that you do does become my damn business.” The king answered in a voice dripping with disdain, venom and contempt._

_“Her name is Iduna, and no, she has not influenced my decisions in any way whatsoever.” The prince now rose from where he had fallen and continued “As for the other business you’re insinuating, it’s a pity I can’t strike you back.”_

_The king loomed dangerously close and growled “Try me.”_

_For a moment it looked as if they had forgotten that they were father and son, rather two strangers who were spoiling for a brawl._

_The prince relented and said “Father, why can’t we talk like the well-educated people that we are? A mosh pit between us would be shameful. Let’s discuss this calmly.”_

_The king took a moment to breathe, stepped back and said “Very well, but I can’t stand back this time like I did in Spain. I will rally my army with the French, for the sole reason that I can’t let the Tsar have any more influence in Europe than he already has. As for the north, it’s time they bowed down to the true authority in Arendelle.”_

_“We should have pursued the peace talks further with the Northurldra, pa. We would have reached an accord.”_

_“I know from experience that’s not true. I did offer the NORTH the gift of the reservoir, at great personal cost of the empire. How do they show their gratitude? By nearly blowing up the blessed dam! How do I reach an accord with such animals?” The king said._

_“Maybe they couldn’t forget the valley of death.” Agnarr suggested._

_“It’s a bloody shame they didn’t remember the valley that well either, for they should have guessed that my kindness to them is a privilege they have, not my duty or moral law towards them.” Replied the king “The expedition up north will happen, if the Northern people hold their lives and livelihoods dear, they would be wise to stand down without much destruction.”_

_Agnarr sighed, the appeal of the cabinet of ministers to avoid a civil war was not coming to fruition. So he decided to cut his losses ”While I can’t endorse your decisions here, I can understand them.”_

_The king cut in ”Fortunately for me, I don’t need anybody’s endorsement.”_

_“Please let me finish, pa” Agnarr pleaded “ I know you can’t step back on your obligation to aid the Emperor of France, and that you can’t afford to lose face in the continent due to the Northurldra. I understand this is a time of giants. But hear me out on this. Due to my correspondence to the kingdom of the Southern Isles, Weselton and Corona, I cannot be seen opposing them. The delicate alliance that I have constructed with the crown princes there contradicts Uncle Napoleon’s stance against the Russian empire. As you clearly know Corona has close ties with Russia, and the Southern Isles and Weselton have economic rivalries with France. If I accompany the French and make that political statement, I shall lose all the hard work and toil it has taken to establish bases of power across the continent.”_

_There it was, that classic fatal flaw that held back the Arendellian skill at forging alliances everywhere; it was impossible to keep everyone happy. The king stayed silent, which emboldened Agnarr to drive home the point he was making “Furthermore, the Emperor is powerful, but not infallible. His Navy was utterly decimated seven years ago, who’s to say that his armies can’t?”_

_The King put two and two together, and spoke at length “So you’re staying in Arendelle?”_

_“Yes, and promise me this.”_

_“What?” “Promise me that you will offer the Northurldra peace terms if they surrender or cooperate.”_

_“If they are reasonable, I will surely be open to peace.”_

_With their tempers abated, father and son embraced, knowing that they wouldn’t see each other for a long time._

_“Let’s make a toast” Said the king._

_“Father, I’m not a man yet, so I can’t consume alcohol.” Agnarr grinned at the suggestion._

_“You’re plenty manly to me, son. You stood up to me like a man, with far more courage and gumption that those twits who run the empire, so you’ve earned a drink.”_

_With that, the king made himself and his heir a drink and made a toast “To the lost.”_

_“To the lost.” Repeated Agnarr, and drank ”OHH it burns!”_

_“Of course it does” laughed the king “It’s aged, it’s supposed to burn.”_

_They both enjoyed a moment of silence, after which Agnarr asked ”Why do you always toast to the lost?”_

_The king answered “It is never an unsuitable moment to pay our respects to those who were lost so that we may have this.”_

_Agnarr smiled, for he rarely saw the king being this way._

_“What was the name of the girl again, the one you met some time ago?” The king spoke suddenly._

_“Iduna, she hails from the north. However, I don’t know if she is Northurldrian.” Agnarr replied._

_“Hmm” acknowledged the king “Tell me more.”_

_“She says she hails from a family of heralds, which is plausible, for she has a wonderful voice.” Agnarr finished with a smile._

_“If I wanted to admit something deep and personal, I would say that the kulning always brought me peace.” The king revealed. Agnarr simply looked on. “All right, I would try to be fair to them.”_

_“Thank you, pa. I really appreciate it. I would appreciate it more if I negotiate with them personally instead.”_

_“Don’t worry boy, I know how to handle them.”_

* * *

_Christmas eve, 1812_

The boy-king reminisced over the last complete conversation he had had with the late king Runeard before it had all crashed to pieces. The French campaign was a disaster, and the Arendellian contingent sent to aid the French was lost almost to a man. The fact that the Arendelle authority was not present with the Emperor severed any ties or pretensions Napoleon had about his allies.

Arendelle was left stranded in the continent, and Agnarr had to learn a lot in a very short time to retain and appease the understandably indignant mainland allies of Corona, Weselton, and the Southern Isles. November and December had been very difficult for the boy-king, he left no stone unturned; offering to pay reparations, giving up the colonies of the Indian subcontinent to the British east India company, giving the Dutch autonomy in the East Indies, et cetera. But the giants of Europe wanted what he couldn’t give them; Runeard ’s head.

They considered themselves merciful by settling for his disappearance. However, by giving away all that he could in the circumstances and making amends for his father, king Agnarr had won some trust and goodwill amongst his allies, who saw him as a man who could survive adversity, and his tireless endeavours to ensure that relief reached the families of the lost won him the respect and popularity of his people. As for the Northurldra, they had been rendered inaccessible by a thick mist which didn’t let anyone in or out. There were rumours of a possible way to reach them, however it was through the dark sea, and the dark sea was not famous for being tranquil and friendly to voyages.

All that was in the recent past where the boy-king had ben pushed to his limits. He would have given up, if not for Iduna, soon to be the most important person in his life. She stuck with him through thick and thin, holding his hand and giving him support wherever she could. To express his gratitude, Agnarr attempted to rescue Iduna ’s people by evacuating them, but it was all in vain.

“Your Majesty?” whispered Iduna after knocking on his door.

“Come in Iduna, and please call me Agnarr.” Replied the tired king.

“Only a few minutes till Christmas” said Iduna as she made herself comfortable in his quarters.

“Hmm” mused the king. Then he began “Why don’t you hate me? My father ruined everything for you, and I couldn’t save your people after I promised.” He paused to wipe the tears forming in his eyes.

He was stopped by Iduna, who wiped his eyes for him “After the year we all have had, I don’t hold anyone to their promises. Everyone is fallible, no one is perfect. I appreciate the mere fact that you tried to rescue them from your father’s wrath.” Said Iduna, ignoring the lump forming in her own throat.

Agnarr sighed “ This has been a rotten Christmas.”

Iduna corrected him “The circumstances are rotten, but the festival shall always bring good cheer and hope. We’re both alive, if that is not hope then what is?”

Agnarr smiled “What would I ever do without you?” “I’ll always be with you” Iduna grinned. They looked at each other with the gaze of contentment and blossoming love for a while. Then Agnarr spoke

“Sing me a song.”

“I sing to you every night.”

“Something special for Christmas eve, please?”

“Alright, here’s one that never fails.”

_Where the north wind meets the sea_

_There's a river full of memory_

_Rest my king, safe and sound_

_For in this river all is found_

Iduna continued to sing but paused when the king had tears streaming down his face.

“It’s your voice, it can reduce me to a baby in an instant.” Agnarr smiled through his teary face.

“I’m used to it; I can never finish a song when you’re listening.” Iduna laughed.

The king wiped his face and remarked “ One of these days, I’ll make you my Queen, just you wait.”

“Will they accept me?”

“They better, cause if they don’t, they can go fuck themselves.”

“Your Majesty!” said Iduna in mock alarm.

“I’ve been through every street in hell this year, whilst proving myself to Europe and my own people, I’ve earned the right to cuss like a sailor.” Agnarr said with a haughty air.

“Cuss away then.” Iduna guffawed.

The bell chimed twelve midnight; all was well for now.

“A merry fucking Christmas to you, Iduna.” Chortled the King.

“A merry fucking Christmas to you as well, Agnarr.” Chimed the would-be Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! This was a rite all right.  
> I have never typed so much in my life for one single document or story. Apologies if this was a big history lesson for you people, but I felt that laying out this exposition was vital in making sure a lot of plot points make sense in the future. I also tried to include some Agnarr-Iduna fluff, so there’s that  
> So hang in there, cause we have one more chapter before we reach the famous sisters.  
> For those who want to relate to the history:  
> Arendelle and Northurldra: Sweden and Norway,  
> Corona: Prussia,  
> The Southern Isles: Denmark,  
> and Weselton: Belgium
> 
> As always, constructive feedback is always welcome :D


	3. A Collapse, some friendships, a wedding, and possible parenthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fluff for our characters as the world around them keeps changing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I hope you’re all doing well! I have to say, I’m enjoying writing this far more than I thought I would.  
> For those who were confused as to who the giants of Europe were in the previous chapter, they were namely Great Britain, Austria-Hungary, the Russian Empire, and the Ottomans, to an extent. I forgot to add that detail in the previous chapter, sorry 😉.  
> All frozen characters belong to Disney, all I own is this head-cannon and the original characters.  
> Let’s continue :D

Agnarr sometimes had a habit of zoning out and biting his lower lip while listening to Iduna sing, a quirky quality Iduna found adorable, and always ribbed Agnarr about it in good humour. Agnarr on his part, always found it fascinating and endearing how Iduna was always drawn to nature, and how a nice cup of brewed hot chocolate always lifted her spirits. He also felt a sense of pride when he saw how quickly she learnt the ways of the European royalty despite being a mere commoner. Sure, the beginning was a little rocky with Iduna making small mistakes in conducting herself, but what she may have slightly lacked in conduct and tradition, she made up for it in emotional intelligence and choosing her words carefully, and most importantly her good humour and candour. Ah, the things lovebirds discover and like about each other when they court. While the people were wary of her northern ancestry at first, they soon warmed up to her due to her kindness and sincerity of her desires to want the best for them.

But, while these two were building their own corner of paradise, big changes were happening in Europe. The Emperor of France was finally cornered in a defeat two years after that damned invasion of the Russian Empire. Napoleon was finally ousted from power and exiled to the island of Elba. Fair enough, Europe agreed, for the troublemaker to be kept away from the mainland, like the naughty kid punished to stand outside and think about what they have done. France came to Arendelle for help again, however by now Arendelle was done with them, having reached an understanding with the Russians and the crown of Corona, and the Southern Isles and Weselton only too happy to fill up the vacuum left by the French.

Still, the king was wary of the Southern Isles and Weselton, what with the Southern Isles royal family being notorious for their bonds of blood thinner than air, their tendency to breed like rabbits, and their famed history of going at each other’s throats. As long as Arendelle didn’t get injured in the crossfire, the King didn’t really care, but he could have done without the acrimony, as the present king of The Southern Isles was a little eccentric, but he was fun to hang around with. As far as Weselton was concerned, it was a royalty of crooks and gangsters to king Agnarr. They had little class, lesser respect, and both the duke and his successor never found an opportunity to turn any event into a money-making machine, as they worshipped their riches, and no people, land or race was sacred enough to not sacrifice for them to achieve their ends. The Russians Tsars on their part were never very popular among their own people, and they were regular subject to assassination attempts and revolts, so the Russian empire too couldn’t be the definitive reliable ally. Moreover, Alexander was closer in age to his father, so while their interaction was always warm and cordial, king Agnarr always felt distant from the Tsar. The one true ally and possible friend to Agnarr was King Reginald of Corona and his queen to be, lady Sophia of Southern Austria, who bonded with Iduna over their mutual good fortunes and friendship. When the friendship between the kings was on rocky terrain back in 1812, it was the two ladies who made the peace;

“I have all the respect in the world for Agnarr, and the way he has tried to manoeuvre his kingdom through this crisis, but I can’t see my husband to be turning the other on this one, Iduna. Reginald feels betrayed, and he’s not too keen on being forgiving yet.”

“I understand and that position Sophia, but Agnarr didn’t have the luxury of making a good decision from that mess. He tried to please everyone, as was expected of him, and everyone has taken advantage of it. He has bent over backwards trying to make amends for his father’s harsh stance and the former French emperor’s megalomania, for which he was gotten nothing but ridicule and contempt. He and I are desperately trying to find someone in this moment of chaos and trying to escape the witch hunt.”

“It’s not just a witch hunt, it’s also restitution. The European monarchy has had an axe to grind with king Runeard, now they feel cheated and angered by how he’s ignoring them to fight his own countrymen. I can’t say I blame them, what with how the 18th century ended and the 19th began.” Said Sophia, with the horrors of the Napoleonic wars fresh in her mind.

“They may have their reasons, that doesn’t mean we don’t have our own. Agnarr also has his own father to contend with. Do you really believe he wanted all this to happen? His father was backed into a corner by his French friend, he couldn’t refuse him after what happened in Spain. Agnarr tried to minimize the ensuing forest fire, but his efforts were not appreciated.” Iduna defended her beau.

“Don’t get me wrong, we fully appreciate his endeavour in that direction, however it was an admission of weakness on his part, and as we have both come to know, weakness is not received well in our circles.” Sophia said empathetically.

“This is all moot, as Agnarr is not being given a chance to correct his father’s errors, and he wants what’s best not only for Arendelle, but also for the stability of Europe. He is making sincere attempts at reconciling with his friends, spending far more effort at retaining those who are close to him than acquainting and dealing with strangers.” Iduna put her foot down.

“The strangers being Corona’s immediate northern and western neighbours, correct?” Sophia inquired with a faint smile on her lips.

“Yes, and he would appreciate and hold the true friendship strong through thick and thin.” Iduna replied, making her point here.

“I have a couple of observations to make.” Sophia started after a few minutes of ruminating on the subject. “Go ahead Sophia” Iduna pressed on.

“Agnarr is lucky to have you, and you have learnt well a trade completely alien to you.” Sophia grinned. Iduna blushed despite getting used to the praise and replied with a smile, “Thank you, Sophia. I have a very good and supporting companion whom I’m fortunate to have in return. I also have come a long way from tripping over the coattails of the king of Bavaria, and almost setting him on fire. I have on good authority that he still doesn’t like me.” Iduna added with a smirk. Sophia laughed heartily at that for some time, remembering the pandemonium that had happened at the Bavarian king’s wedding anniversary four months ago; in the May of 1812.

She calmed down at length, and assured her, “Alright, you’ve made your point Iduna, leave Reginald to me. I’ll convince him. Soon, this problem wouldn’t be a problem anymore.” Iduna beamed at that “Thank you so much, Sophia. You don’t know how much this means to both Agnarr and me.” Iduna said with genuine gratitude and relief in her voice.

“You are most welcome, Iduna.” Sophia beamed with satisfaction. “So, when are we all getting the much-awaited wedding invitations for the romantic, noble and adroit couple?” Sophia teased.

“Well, we are romantic, arguably noble and rumoured to be adroit, but we are still fourteen or fifteen at best. You tell me Sophia, when shall Europe see Corona and Austria-Hungary join hands in matrimony?” Iduna asked cheekily in return.

“Ah well, I’m ready now, but we both know there are other things at hand first.” Sophia sighed.

“True, but at least we can put this particular business behind us” Iduna assured.

“Yes, and just in time for both of us to leave” Noted Sophia.

The two friends embraced and wished each other safe travels.

* * *

Iduna remembered the conversation that had brought the two nations together two years ago, quite fondly, and had grown very close to Sophia in the meantime. As King Agnarr and King Reginald forged the new order of Europe post Napoleon, European society keenly baptized them as ‘ The northern brothers ’. As for the queens-in waiting, they maintained a healthy correspondence, discussing all joys and tensions, and forged a nigh sisterly bond. It wasn’t surprising to for Iduna to be the first person to know about the wedding date and being Sophia’s maid of honour, and it was inevitable for king Agnarr to be king Reginald’s best man.

It was a happy and lavish affair in October 1814, with royalty coming from as far as the Ottoman Empire, Macedonia and Egypt. Sure, now Corona had ideological differences with the Ottomans, but that didn’t stop the Sultan from helping himself to the finest offerings of king Reginald’s palace kitchens. The then-king of Great Britain sent his regrets, but that could be forgiven as the poor monarch was already half-mad and blind with age. As for the ever-dignified Tsar, he blessed the union with prosperity and a long lineage. He may have been a party mad youth in his time, as were all the Romanovs, but his Tsarina had tethered him to a dignity that he quietly enjoyed. The king of The Southern Isles was particularly interested in the lineage and advised king Reginald to secure the succession as soon as possible.

“The Tsar’s blessing is good and all, but I’d wish king Christian the eighth of The Southern Isles had more time to educate me on the subject.” Reginald said glibly to Agnarr after making sure the father of nine children was out of earshot.

“I don’t know about the king, but Sophia would definitely fucking kill you when she hears that.” Laughed Agnarr.

“Hey, Iduna taught you to have a brutal sense of humour! That lady is magnificent” ribbed the king of Corona.

“I agree wholeheartedly. Do you think king Christian will reach double-digits with his kids?”

“He’s definitely getting close, even if he’s up there in age. I’ll wager at least eleven before he’s done.” teased Reginald, before his queen quietly twisted his ears.

“You two clearly have way too much fucking time on your hands” scolded the inebriated queen; well, it was her night too. “I’m sorry, dear. It slipped out; I didn’t mean anything by it.” Wailed the king. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Challenged his Austria-Hungarian better half.

This silly exchange lightened up the ballroom, with The Southern Isles King and the Duke of Weselton cackling in the distance and even the stoic Tsar grinning good-naturedly.

“Hear hear, the true power of Corona!” Proclaimed Iduna, appearing as if out of nowhere with her signature mug of hot chocolate.

“Hey darling, you got your way after all” said Agnarr, graciously admitting defeat to an earlier bet he made with his belle.

“Damn right.” Iduna replied, holding her hot chocolate mug high up. Then she spoke “I’m so happy for them, the whole thing was textbook.” “Yeah me too, they are a fine couple, we are good at this, we should do this more often.”

Then Agnarr turned wistful and grim and said, “I wish the French leader came, they have been our longest supporting allies, even if our relations have soured in the last few years.”

“The surviving bourbon king is old and obese; we can’t expect him to travel such a distance without incident.” Mused Iduna.

“Still, he could have sent a representative, would have meant everything. I know from experience that this can’t end well.” Agnarr said quietly “Now why didn’t he send any message?”

As if to answer his question, a messenger entered the ball room and made a beeline for the centre “Pardon me for this ugly interruption but listen all. Napoleon Bonaparte has escaped the island of Elba, has garnered support back in France and has usurped the bourbon monarchy again. King Louis the eighteenth is on the run, requesting asylum in Corona.”

The European royalty may have had various grim reactions to this worrying news, but the Tsar summed it up best “That fucking devil.”

* * *

It was a tough few months for the northern brothers ahead, along with the rest of Europe. Napoleon, the crazy genius that he was, had managed to find the backing of the crown of Spain, the Italian peninsula whom he had promised freedom from Austria-Hungary upon his conquest, and some nominal support from the Ottomans, who were only too happy to stick it to their problem neighbour up north. 

But Napoleon’s star was on the fall, suffering terrible losses despite some early victories. Despite that, it took the combined forces of the Russians, the British, Corona, Austria-Hungary, The Southern Isles and Weselton to destroy his presence forever in the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. The kingdom of Arendelle chose to maintain the supply lines for its allies instead of sending actual soldiers. Upon Napoleon’s defeat and escape from the battle, the Tsar called for his head once and for all, but the duke of Wellington and Iduna intervened to exile him to St Helena’s instead. They reasoned to avoid making that statement by rationalizing that France would be better left intact than scrambled by Napoleon’s Execution.

Three weeks after the European powers decided Napoleon’s fate, king Agnarr married now queen Iduna in a simple private ceremony, worlds apart from the celebration at Corona months ago. Of course, the close friends and allies were invited, and even though they had the odd Duke of Weselton grumbling about the lack of pretence and grandeur, king Reginald and queen Sophia lifted all spirits by announcing that they were with child.

“You magnificent bastard, you did it!” shouted the king of Arendelle as he gave the king of Corona a bear hug. “Right back at you, you scoundrel.” bellowed Reginald.

“Well done both of you, but remember, this is but a beginning.” The Tsar grinned.

“Oh your majesty, you’re making us nervous” King Reginald replied in good humour.

“Thank you for taking my advice to heart, king Reginald” said king Christian, clearly pleased with himself.

“I suppose it makes the paltry Arendelle wedding ceremony worth it” grumbled the duke of Weselton.

“You make me sad, duke. I think you might either be clinically insane, or drunk on an empty stomach. Seeing the empty glass in your hand, I guess the latter.” teased Christian, to which the duke merely grunted.

“Come with me, I’ll introduce you to a poison far better than money” winked the king of The Southern Isles.

Agnarr merely laughed as Reginald relaxed his fisted hands after the duke left with the king, and within the span of a few minutes, the duke was dancing his best impression of a chicken.

“He’s clearly forgotten all his troubles”

“Good for him.”

“Ah lighten up Reggie, I doubt you’ll remember in the morning either.”

“Hmm, I guess.”

Agnarr grew serious and put his left arm over Reginald’s shoulder, who returned the gesture.

”All the best for your parenthood.”

“All good fortune for your married life as well, brother.”

Agnarr gave a big smile before calling out: “Iduna, sweetheart, come here and bring Sophia with you as well.”

“Here I am” Iduna warbled, clearly enjoying the first time she had ever been drunk, hanging onto Sophia’s shoulder, who merely found it adorable. By this time, king Christian had also managed to calm the duke down after thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Let’s make a toast” Agnarr raised his glass as he collected Iduna in his right arm.

“To the lost” Agnarr said at length.

“To the lost” echoed the queen and everyone else.

“Skall to that” king Christian being himself, followed the duke shrieking “Caw Caw!”

Overcome with emotion and love, king Agnarr kissed his bride Iduna, who was so emotional at that point that she let out a long kulning for the occasion and buried her face into Agnarr’s chest.

“Not fair” remarked Sophia, “she gets drunk and sings like an angel, I get drunk and get into a quarrel with Reggie.”

“We all have our charms, love.” Teased Reginald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, this is getting there, well thank you for sticking with this story!  
> Next time, we will start meeting the sisters we have been waiting for :D
> 
> As always, constructive feedback is always welcome.


	4. The birth of someone magical, and the disappearance of another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!  
> In the last chapter, I just included a bunch of original characters without commenting anything whatsoever. Talk about being modest :P  
> Oh well, great ready, because the sisters will begin to arrive in this chapter and the next! And one of them is an OC!  
> As for the historic events, most are true, but some of them have been invented or moved around in in the European historic timeline to keep the dramatic states high, and to show how vast, small and dangerous this universe is all at the same time. I swear all the ‘world-building’ will make sense as we move forward :D.
> 
> All frozen characters belong to Disney, all I own is this head-cannon and the original characters.  
> On with the story :D

In the first few months of their marriages, the lives of the royal couple of Arendelle and Corona were good and full of hope, despite whatever happened in the rest of Europe and the world. The British had had enough of their mentally ill monarch, who was on his way out. The loss of the thirteen colonies still cut deep to the British, and when the Confederacy had decided to further challenge the them in Canada, the British proceeded to burn Washington to the ground, even going so far as to provoke the Native Americans to fight on the side of the British. The Confederacy turned to Arendelle for help, which resulted in Arendelle with its considerable naval forces confronting the formidable navy of the British. The duke of Weselton had a vested interest in the transatlantic trade, and so joined on the side of Arendelle. The three naval superpowers fought and ground the war to a stalemate by taking the war to the sea away from the shores of North America. With peace ensured by the Confederacy agreeing to leave Canada be, the British bought influence in Africa filling up the duke’s coffers. And with peace made on good terms with the confederacy thanks to Arendellian diplomacy, Arendelle now found a powerful new ally in Great Britain, moving away from the French. Furthermore, the confederacy was grateful, and called for further imports from Arendelle.

* * *

All this happened while the Corsican madlad was subdued in Elba, which was a good thing as when he showed up again to be finally defeated in Waterloo, the Arendelle crown was well backed by Great Britain into a powerful negotiating position regarding the fate of the fallen dictator. As a result, king Agnarr and queen Iduna found ample time to bring long-lost prosperity back to Arendelle. The days of Agnarr being a ditherer desperate to please everyone were long gone; here he was, with the love of his life beside him, ready to take on the world.

However, there was a bout of tragedy in his friend’s life, as King Reginald and Queen Sophia’s first child due in the spring of 1815 turned out to be a stillborn, despite the painstaking efforts of some of the best doctors in Europe. The whole ordeal of a painful birth and the dead infant took a heavy toll on the Queen, who was emotionally broken from the experience. The palace servants found it increasingly common to hear the queen screaming into the night in self-pity and self-loathing, turning to alcohol to ease the pain, and having shouting matches with the king. It was one of those times, when things came to a head.

“It was unfortunate what happened, but we are young and healthy, we can try again.” The king reasoned, holding on to his own stoicism lest he crumble too.

“You don’t get it do you?! It came out of me, lifeless and stiff! HOW COULD I EVER EXPECT TO TRY AGAIN! Who’s to say it won’t happen again?!” Shrieked the queen, weeping tears full of rage.

“So, he’s already an ‘it’, isn’t he?” the king asked with a woebegone face.

“Listen to yourself Reggie, it’s been buried in the ground for almost a month, and you are the one who wants to move on from ‘him’?” the queen sobbed.

“I have been seeing you for that entire time, you think I haven’t tried to move on? I have tried to weave myself through all false sympathies, hoping that maybe I could have my wife for comfort by my side. But now, I can’t even talk to her anymore. All I can sense are the alcohol talking, and a woman who’s admitting defeat. I can’t recognize my wife at all in you right now, Sophie” The king said quietly, with the tears starting to flow from his eyes as well.

The queen fell silent at this. She observed her husband for a good long moment; the loss was acute for him as well. Reginald was always sensitive about those he loved and cared for, and overtly emotional. She may have lost an infant, but both their futures were in jeopardy in the moment, and ultimately, for now she had to think like a queen first, motherhood could come later.

“You’re right. We must think about our futures too, we can’t stay in this quagmire forever. I have been selfish in my sorrow and have left you alone out in the cold to fend for yourself, for that I’m truly sorry. You know what Reggie, let’s regain our strength, and try again after some time. I’m sure we’ll make it. And if I must give up drinking, so be it.” Sophia declared as things became clear to her.

“Yes, we will make it. Hang in there Sophie.” “You too Reggie.” The royal pair told each other as they held on to each other, their hearts placated.

Throughout this time, king Agnarr had provided all the help that he could to his dear friend, and the morbid incident was the talk of the Arendellian royal household.

“I hope they recover from this soon, they deserve a lot better.” Iduna mused during one such conversation.

“I hope so as well, I can’t bear watching Reginald like this, and poor Sophia too” Agnarr said.

“I think there’s a lesson here” “What?” “I think they were not ready for a child yet, they were not serious enough about it. I knew back then that was a mistake. I tried warning the both of them, but they were too excited to listen.” Iduna observed as her husband agreed.

“Who’s to say we are ready ourselves?” Agnarr inquired expectantly.

“Only time will tell; I think we should wait to be better prepared.” Iduna answered.

* * *

And so, the royal couple decided to wait. Just as well, as the British and the Russians were twisting Agnarr’s arm to intervene in the Balkans. That was the thing with the British, while the rest of Europe was looking at Africa and Asia, they had their eyes set on the whole world. Anyway, at Sophia’s request, Iduna convinced Agnarr to send a team of diplomats to the region, getting the local leaders to pledge fealty to central Europe, while the British proceeded to wrest control of Egypt from the Ottomans, rendering it a vassal state to the Ottomans to keep them from corpsing and leaving the region unpredictable. The Russians on their part, help instigate a popular uprising against the Sultan and his Janissaries in the fall of 1817. Nasty business, the Arendelle Monarch thought, but at least it would keep his staunchest allies secure. The king of Corona was saddled with enough worries as it was at the time, being nervous about his wife’s second pregnancy, and tried his hardest to keep all stress away from her. But even he couldn’t have guessed what could happen.

The Habsburgs of Austria-Hungary, the Russians and the Ottomans had always seen the Balkans as the buffer that kept everything in check. The day that powder keg blew up, all three would go down. While the Habsburgs had family in the Balkans, particularly in Serbia, which was unsurprising at this point, both the Ottomans and the Russians claimed to be the protector of all Christians in the region. In a surprising and morbid turn of events, the Ottoman Sultan, seething at such an open blow to his power, moved first, and sent in his special troops/assassins to storm the imperial palace of the king and queen of Serbia, shot them multiple times at point blank range, and destroyed their bodies by chopping them to pieces and throwing them into the palace moat. The sheer audacity of the event, not to mention the horrific assassination and the barefaced flexing of the Sultan’s powers, sent Europe by storm, but none more than the queen of Corona, who was the second cousin of the king of Serbia.

The shock made Sophia faint when she heard the news, which unfortunately led to a miscarriage.

The king was beside himself with grief, and the queen was inconsolable. The event affected them so much that they cancelled the thanksgiving service that year, and the queen sunk into depression as rumours started circulating about queen Sophia being victim to the Habsburg curse of madness and melancholy. But the queen asserted herself to the public by putting those rumours to rest. In an unprecedented move for the time, she made a speech to the public, addressing that while the loss of a potential heir and family was tragic, it was not doomsday for the country or Europe yet as they were still led by a courageous and wise monarchy and a common belief of maintaining peace after the fall of Napoleon, and they would weather these storms, as they had done before.

While the public’s beliefs may have been restored, only Iduna learnt the true sorrow that hounded Sophia about the whole affair when she visited:

“I swear I’m fucking cursed” cried Sophia. “That’s silly, Sophia” Said Iduna, as she tried to calm her down.

“Is it really? I lost a second cousin and a child in the span of 48 hours. I honestly believe the forces of nature are out to make me miserable. Various forces at play to ruin my life.” Sophia continued bitterly.

“Look, those animals who caused this anguish to you will pay; that does not mean you stop living and give up-” Iduna began but was cut off by Sophia.

“First of all, I know I can handle it, nevertheless by accepting that bleak truth, I would stop being caught fucking unawares whenever such a thing happens.” Sophia claimed.

“That’s a bizarre argument, woman. By that rationale, I’m also cursed, as I lost my entire family in a battle my late father-in law waged. Agnarr should also be cursed, as he also lost his father in said battle. It’s a bone-headed way of thinking, and it leads us nowhere.” Iduna proceeded to coach the aggrieved queen, “What happened was life itself, and it is seldom under our control. Everyone’s surroundings affect them. No one could imagine those killers could stoop to this action, and no one could have known what would happen afterwards. All we can do is to do the next right thing when facing such darkness.” Iduna finished.

“The next right thing? What do you think that should be?” Sophia asked.

“For you, it should be to stand beside your husband in this time, he shouldn’t suffer separately and alone.” Iduna advised. “As married people, we find our strength in our better halves, you know.”

“You’re right. To take a step and step again indeed.” Sophia rose up to embrace the queen of Arendelle.

“Stay strong, Sophie.” “You too, Iduna.”

* * *

The British saw this event as an excuse to be the moral voice of the situation, in comparison to king Reginald and the aging monarch of Austria-Hungary, who also happened to be the maternal grandfather of Queen Sophia, who threatened invasion and war. The British struck first by trapping the Ottomans in an embargo that blocked them from the west Mediterranean Sea. The Russians, on the other hand forced them into a crippling treaty that made Greece independent; further reducing the European holdings of the Sultan.

Agnarr on his part, wanted nothing to do with the Balkans or the Ottomans, focusing instead on efforts to pacify king Reginald and observing The Southern Isles. King Christian’s latest wife, his fifth, a princess of Greek origin, had been blessed with triplets, so if there was anyone truly fertile in the continent, it was the king of The Southern Isles. Now a proud father of twelve, the king was well and truly ensured his succession and the crisis that would precede it. Not that it bothered the aging king; he was raised to get what he wanted, by god if he wanted a private army of his own kids, he would get it.

Agnarr mused, that man has clearly nothing else left in his life except an illusion of health and merry. Any romantic dreams that he had died with his second wife, every other lady he courted after became a brood mare. When it came out that his latest wife was involved in an affair, he proceeded to divorce her summarily within the next twenty-four hours, seized all her possessions, and left her destitute and ruined. Agnarr was generally put off by his careless hounding attitude towards everything but was truly disgusted to find out that he had married a sixth time, this time to a rumoured Polish noblewoman in the beginning of 1819.

A fine set of examples the royal couple of Arendelle had around them; the Tsar who was childless, and his younger brothers weren’t too keen to succeed him. Then there was Corona, where queen Sophia had gotten pregnant for a third time, against all odds. Finally, there was king Christian who had already consummated the marriage with his Polish wife, and a rumoured thirteenth kid was on the way. However, the king of The Southern Isles narrowly survived a heart attack during said consummation and decided that even by his standards, he was done.

Well, speaking of pregnancies, Iduna had broken the happy news to Agnarr in the April of 1819, and the kingdom was in celebration. 1819 was an important year in this respect; a lot of future monarchs were born in this year, not that anyone could say for sure at that time. As the summer solstice drew near, queen Sophia started experiencing complications in her pregnancy and panicked, sending king Reginald into a frenzy, calling up all the physicians, doctors and midwives available. As Sophia’s situation grew worse, king Agnarr sent his personal doctor, Dr. Klaus. If anyone had consummate knowledge in medicine and lifesaving, it was this guy.

Dr Klaus took one look at the queen and gave his verdict; if they were to save the queen and the baby, they needed an exotic herb made from a plant called the sun-mirror, a variety of lettuce whose luminous flowers had the rumoured quality of giving eternal life and healing all predicaments. However, it was extremely rare and was critically endangered as a plant, only growing naturally on the island of Cyprus, unfortunately controlled by the Ottomans. The Ottomans found the opportunity to weasel out a deal with Russia in exchange for safe passage to Cyprus for Reginald’s troops, and since king Reginald threatened to blockade the Baltic with Arendelle’s backing if Russia didn’t abide, the Tsar was forced to give up the southern ports of the Black Sea, exposing Crimea to the Ottomans.

However, no harm was done, as the plant was found, brought back to Corona, crushed into herbs and medicine and fed to the queen. The result could not have been better, as the queen had a surprisingly easy birth, becoming the mother to a lovely, adorable, healthy and lively baby girl on the eve of the Summer Solstice. King Reginald was overcome with joy and emotion as he hugged his baby girl and spread the happy news throughout Europe. The baby princess had a full head of blonde hair long enough to cover her whole body, like the golden stocks of the sun-mirror lettuce. She was officially christened as princess Eva Rapunzel, but the king and queen endearingly called her Rapunzel or Punzie. At that point Dr. Klaus took his leave, to care for queen Iduna’s pregnancy.

Arendelle waited with bated breath as Iduna faced a complication of her own by contracting hypothermia; her situation grew serious as her body fell colder and colder, and all the nutrition, medicine, hot coalbeds and blankets couldn’t keep her warm. Moreover, the queen’s eyes had begun to glow with a pale ice-blue glow, and the queen had begun to enter trances, where she would sing in kulning for hours on end. King Agnarr grew desperate; asking Dr. Klaus for any cure or treatment, maybe another sun-mirror herb. Dr Klaus declined; the flower bloomed once in 75 years, and the latest bloom had saved princess Eva Rapunzel. As the king dreaded the worst, Dr Klaus gave some hope:

“Send for Grand Pabbie.”

Said creature was a curious one; a being made of half rock, half human flesh, with leaves and wines for hair. This self-sustaining being used to meditate for six months of the year, and had a massive following of similar beings, living on the borders of the impenetrable mist separating Arendelle from the North, surviving various disasters throughout history by blending into mountainous rocks. It was a testament to Dr. Klaus’ knowhow and network that he knew of this mystical being and his tribe.

The king in his desperation personally went with Dr. Klaus and his royal guard to fetch the rock hermit from the wilderness. At first, Grand Pabbie refused; he had greater responsibilities to the nutrition and survival of the land than some as temporary as human beings, hence the meditation during winter. But when Dr. Klaus explained the whole situation, Grand Pabbie agreed to accompany them at once. Upon reaching the queen’s chambers, the hermit proceeded to put a rocky hand on the queen’s belly and declared “Your majesty, your child has been blessed by the fifth spirit.”

King Agnarr was stunned to hear that “It can’t be, the pass has been covered in mist for years, there’s no way the Northurldra, let alone the fifth spirit could have come to the south, much less affect my wife and child’s health.”

“Calm down, your majesty, for I am yet to finish. Your child and wife are in perfect health; despite the cold and other supernatural symptoms, the queen has no breathing problems or health issues. Her pulse is stable as well. This constellation of symptoms must have puzzled Dr. Klaus; thus, he may have recommended my services.” Grand Pabbie assured the tense king.

“What shall you do now?” asked the king.

“I will perform a simple gesture on the queen’s belly, that should bring her comfort and ease of birth. Now, why exactly did the fifth spirit bless your wife is a mystery, we can assume that either of you have committed a great deed that has placated the lost souls.” With that, the hermit made an eight-cornered crystal shape on the queen’s abdomen. This placated the queen and she drifted into a restful sleep. With that, the hermit turned to the king ”Worry not your majesty, the queen is perfectly safe. However, your child would have a resistance to, or maybe even mastery over a force of nature. Since your kingdom is on the coast, it would most likely be water. As the queen is due near the Winter Solstice, it may be a power over snow, and ice.”

The king was gobsmacked to hear this but was gestured by Dr. Klaus to remain calm. The king realized the prudence of not offending the hermit and thanked Grand Pabbie for his services.

* * *

On the eve of the Winter Solstice of 1819, king Agnarr couldn’t sleep; queen Iduna had gone into labour and the process went much smoother than expected. He had just become the proud father of a baby princess with hair a very light shade of blonde, taking after her grandmother, or so the people said. She was most certainly a bundle of joy, bursting into giggles as soon as seeing her parents for the first time and burying her face into her mother’s bosom, which was deemed adorable by the Monarch. The king bent in to pinch her nose and cheek, which prompted a sneeze from the baby princess, showering a whole layer of snow onto her father.

The queen was shocked “What the fuck?! Where did that come from?!”

The king wiped the snow off his face and said ”Iduna, there’s something you need to know.”

At the end of his story, the queen calmed down and kissed the baby princess on the forehead “She truly is a gift from the almighty. Let’s call her Elsa.”

“Very well, Elsa shall be her name.” Smiled the king.

“She seems to like the name” grinned the queen as the giggling baby princess had already started making snowflakes on her fingertips.

Just then, a guard rushed into their bedroom ”Your Majesty!”

“What is it? Are we under attack?” bellowed the king and queen in unison as the sudden noise made the princess cry.

“I don’t know for certain…. I’m sorry for frightening you at this hour of night. But a messenger from Corona brings worrying news.” The guard spoke after catching his breath.

The king and queen met the messenger at once, who gave them the news that made their blood run cold;

“Princess Eva Rapunzel has been abducted in the dead of night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! That was an action-packed chapter, I think.  
> Some cute moments, some gruesome moments, some sad moments and some moments of joy.  
> Or as Murray, the Joker or Iduna would say, that’s life!
> 
> The OC family would definitely become bigger next chapter, and we may say goodbye to some characters already, just like life.  
> As always, constructive feedback is always welcome.


	5. Of parents, their children and the legend of Flynn Rider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> This story goes more complex as I write it :D  
> Building from the cliff-hanger last time, I have a major responsibility of bringing this story justice. We shall meet a lot of new people this time, some of them we know from the movies, some we don’t. I hope it turns out as satisfying and gripping as I intended.
> 
> All frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney, all I own is this head-cannon and the original characters.  
> With that, let’s continue!

Even as the king and queen of Arendelle announced the arrival of princess Elsa, they were more worried about the kidnapping of princess Eva Rapunzel, which was a scandal that was starting to make the crown of Corona look bad. King Reginald deployed a massive force to look for the princess and her abductor across Europe, which was christened ‘The Golden Knights’. While The Golden Knights were supported in Corona by the backing of the king, they were seen as invaders in the rest of Europe, as a legitimate threat to the sovereignty of various kingdoms in the continent. Things came to a head as The Golden Knights grew throughout Europe, with some opportunists recognizing the possibility of grabbing power. The kingdoms feared that The Golden Knights would enable the local people to hedge more power, instigate revolution and crumble the hard-earned peace after nearly three decades of war. Such was the state of early 19th century Europe, rapidly industrializing and rife with mistrust and caution even among royal families related by similar blood.

It was left to Iduna and Agnarr, who had already conceived their second child, to come to Corona’s rescue; who promptly called a conference between all the European nations in the only non-aligned country on the continent, Switzerland. Nearly every country’s monarch came, except for the Tsar of Russia and the Emperors of France and Great Britain, as their respective health had started to fail. They had sent their chief advisers. As for the Ottomans, they refused to attend as a gesture of defiance. With queen Iduna presiding over the meeting, king Agnarr began to speak. “Your most royal majesties, lend me your ears.” Said Agnarr, as he addressed the conference “The pope has been kind enough to grant us this neutral ground in order to decide how the business of looking for princess Eva must be conducted in the continent, or beyond. Now, king Reginald saw it fit to summon a huge force to look for his daughter. It is our moral duty to help our fellow monarch in this time of distress.” The Arendellian king proceeded to continue his speech when he was rudely interrupted.

“This is such a crock of shit.” Spat the duke of Weselton “I personally cannot believe the energy put into searching for a lost girl of a godforsaken kingdom.”

“What are you trying to say, honourable duke?” snarled king Reginald, even as Agnarr tried to calm him down.

Ignoring the implied death threat in the question, the duke continued “ Every time a problem arises in Europe, it always comes from fucking Corona. Be it Napoleon deposing the former king or queen of Corona, or the king threatening war in the middle east either for restitution in Serbia from my biggest partners there; the Ottomans, or for exotic medicine for his cursed fucking wife, or now, when he sends an invading force into my fucking fief to look for his damn litter. It has been two months already, give up, let us live in some fucking piece already, and conceive again. It’s not as if the princess was to be the heir anyway. Moreover, you and your wife obviously know how to-“ the duke’s rant was cut short as king Reginald lunged towards him, kicked him once in the gut and once under the belt, and then proceeded to throttle the life out of him.

“I’ll POUND YOU TO FUCKING PIECES, YOU FUCKING WEASEL!” roared king Reginald, the six-foot three king more than a match for the five footer duke. He would have made good on his threat, had he not been held back by the kings of Arendelle, the Southern Isles and Austria-Hungary. Agnarr finally managed to pull Reginald away and slapped him in the face “What the fuck is wrong with you, Reginald?!” Agnarr screamed to Reginald in the face, and Reginald was ready in sock him in the face, when-

“SILENCE!” thundered queen Iduna and banged the dais with her hands, which stunned everyone into being quiet. “WE WILL NOT REACH AN ACCORD IF WE CONTINUE TRYING TO ANTAGONIZE THE KING OF CORONA WHEN HE FACES THIS TOUGH TIME! MOREOVER, SUCH UNPARLIAMENTARY LANGUAGE AND VIOLENCE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED IN THIS SOLEMN GATHERING!” Iduna finished her tirade, then began again “I shall at once direct king Agnarr and king Reginald towards a period of recess, during which time they shall settle their differences peacefully and reach common ground again. As for the duke of Weselton, his disgusting behaviour and efforts towards instigating discord in this meeting, are grounds enough for me to expel him from the conference with prejudice.” Iduna finished as she settled down.

The duke was beside himself with anger “I get kicked out of the meeting for calling a spade a spade?! All right….in front of all the kings of Europe I say this, your kingdom will regret this decision, Iduna.”

“Leave of your own volition before you are defenestrated.” Iduna said with a voice ice-cold, as the marshals prepared to throw out the troublemaker. Anticipating a painful recovery if he were thrown out from the windows, the duke beat a hasty retreat.

“Swine” muttered king Christian of the Southern Isles under his breath.

* * *

The gathering continued more or less smoothly after the duke’s departure as Agnarr and Reginald were able to calm down and join the conference again. To remove any troubling feudal implications from the Golden Knights, it was agreed to change it from an armed force to a humanitarian one; a landmark decision as no prior organization like that had ever existed. While its primary objection was to still locate the lost princess and hopefully bring her kidnapper to justice, the Golden Knights now became a proto salvation army, setting makeshift camps, soup kitchens and clinics in princess Eva’s name all over Europe. Resistance was still met; but it never broke out into open revolt.

Some questioned where queen Sophia was in all this. European society expected her to be the distraught and helpless parent praying for her child’s safety, rescue and return. However, queen Sophia was not most people. She had been down this road before, wallowing in her misery and praying for fortune to reverse its unkind ways. But now she knew better. As Iduna and Agnarr went to support her dear Reggie, she stayed back in order to care for baby princess Elsa. It was she who nursed the curiously cold child. When she discovered her secret as Elsa’s emotions became more prominent, she embraced her presence even further. The baby ice princess was unusually intelligent for her age, always understanding when Sophia was sad, or happy, and acted accordingly, making snowflakes and loud gurgling noises, which melted the queen’s heart. As for the public, queen Sophia turned her attention to public welfare, instituting public laws that protected the wages of the emerging working class in the cities, and creating a vast chain of clinics, hospitals, and orphanages and institutions, all this in princess Eva’s name. Soon, it led to Corona having the most public-centred and public-friendly policies in Europe, which brought both the king and queen respect from across the continent. When asked why this sudden change, she simply answered,

“When a mother loses a child, all that love has to go somewhere. And what are the citizens of this great kingdom if not my metaphorical kids.” It was a masterstroke of an answer that endeared her to the public, along with adding princess Eva’s name in all her ventures. Princess Eva soon acquired a mythical status, a figure who was sacrificed to bring prosperity to the people of Corona.

As good natured and effective Sophia’s take care demeanour was, it couldn’t keep away the outside world from drastic change. In this din and pandemonium of all these things, the thirteenth child of king Christian was born without incident. It was a young boy, who took after his polish mother in terms of hair and eyes and took after the king in his nose and general face. His mother planned to name the prince Janus, after the great Polish king Jan Sobieski, who had led the charge of the winged hussars, ousting the Ottomans out of Vienna and protecting Europe from Ottoman dominance and suppression back in 1683. However, the king of the Southern Isles didn’t care much for the name, believing it was too effeminate and silly for a prince, and had him christened to the more publicly acceptable Hans. His mother seethed at this utter disregard for her culture and identity to such an extent that, even as the baby prince was only beginning to recognize those around him, she decided to make sure prince Hans was raised Polish first. The fact that the Russian Empire, Corona and Austria-Hungary took every opportunity to carve out new territory from her ancestral home of Poland didn’t help soothe her rage.

As for Sophia’s policies, while they did a lot to bring the ever-increasing middle class out of poverty, it brought new problems along with them. Consider the Rhineland, the new industrial heartland of Corona. Even as the kingdom was modernizing, the climate of Northern Europe had started to change. As a result, the rains in the kingdom had started to dwindle, leaving agriculture not a very viable option for the populace. The cities of the Rhineland had started to burst at the seams with new arrivals from the countryside as a result, and the cities had become saturated with people from all walks and varieties of life as a result, from artisans, scholars and philosophers to the bargemen, dockworkers, other various blue collar jobs and veterans from the Napoleonic wars. There were a lot of orphans from the Napoleonic wars in Rhineland, and the cities had various orphanages built to accommodate them. However, while it was comparatively easy to build new spaces for those orphans to live in, trying to raise them into model members of society was a different beast all together. Soon, there were scores of kids doing odd jobs like selling trinkets, sweets or little items like candles and matchsticks on the street, sometimes sneaking into factories and demanding work from the factory owners, who readily gave them work, quietly ignoring the child labour laws the Monarchy of Corona had set up. Some found their real home on the street, joining a gang to get a piece of the action.

Two such children with these stories were Eugene and Mabel, a couple of nine-year olds who had become friends in one such orphanage. However, the two couldn’t be further different from each other. Mabel believed in the good in people and honesty, raising money on her own in order to afford to go to those new-fangled schools being set up in the country. To raise said money, she often sold odd titbits on the road to pedestrians and passers-by. Eugene didn’t believe in such lofty ideals, choosing instead to believe in standing up for himself and being on the never-ending hustle. Eugene was part of a gang of 10-year-old robbers led by a brutish eleven-year-old boy named Markus, and they regularly held up carriages and coaches inside and outside the city. Eugene got into the gang through his presence of mind and wit, and his ability to look innocent. It was Eugene who came up with the shivering dodge, the lucifer dodge and the scaldrum dodge. The shivering dodge was bit of play-acting, making oneself shiver by bathing in cold water, when one could get their hands on it, or wearing their thinnest clothes to make sure they shiver. Then one would go around the streets of the city, pleading for money for a warm coat or a hot beverage. As for the lucifer dodge, one carried some trinkets, and pretended to be pushed when a rich toff passed by, throwing one’s merchandise on the ground. Looking at their ruined shop, they would pretend to bawl their hearts out and people would throw some coins in sympathy. Lastly, the scaldrum dodge, which Eugene found disgusting, but fell back onto in desperate times. It involved bruising oneself, by rubbing vinegar open soapy arms making them look like nasty blisters. It was uncomfortable and dirty, but at least one could get to spend a few days in the hospitals that were set up recently. Moreover, one could lay low in the hospital to stay away from watchful eyes of the law, which was beginning to crack down on gangs like theirs.

It was a clear contrast to what Markus preferred to do; garrotting. A typical garrotter used to hide in the horse-drawn carriages that carried people around. During the ride, the garrotter choked the passenger by his knuckles, being careful not to crush the windpipe and kill the unfortunate sod but enough to render them unconscious, then robbing the unconscious passenger and paying the carriage driver who was in on it. Another favourite money-maker of his was to nick purses at a public execution, to disappear into a crowd of spectators and ending up with enough wallets and cash for weeks. Last but not the least, there was always the smuggling of tea, China and other such valuables along the shipping routes of the Rhine river into all of Europe, and into Arendelle’s canals and the dark sea up north as well. Markus’ ways were rewarding but dangerous, as it was clearly a crime punishable by death.

Eugene’s scams were far safer and as a result ,they were decent money makers, and soon a lot of kids were doing it for some pocket cash, but they had to pay tribute to Markus and Eugene, who were the clear two leaders of the gang. It was a strange camaraderie between the two of them. For to the world, Eugene went by his own name, but for Markus, he was Flynn.

“The fuck kind of name is Eugene anyway, huh? What are ya, bent?” Markus cackled once during such a talk. “The fuck does that mean, asshole?” Eugene grinned.

“It’s not just the name, the whole damn act that you put, you know.” Markus said.

“Brings in the dosh now, don’t it? And without the noose threatening me neck” Eugene replied.

“True, but that’s the street life I chose.” said Markus. He loved the streets and saw no future for himself beyond that.

“You make me sad, you bastard. I see myself living in a big house, with the love of me life beside me, and an army of servants to lord over.”

“Like the mansion at the outside the city huh? With your little trick?”

“Sure. However, she ain’t no trick. Her name is Mabel.”

“I know who she is, and I also know she don’t like me.”

“Well , you ain’t no choir boy, punk.”

“Yes and thank fuck for that.”

“Ha! You twat!” Eugene laughed.

“Right back at ya, fuckin’ romantic actor!” Markus laughed back.

Markus may have been an oaf, but he was right about how Mabel felt about him “That guy’s a bad influence.”

“A ‘bad influence’? The fuck does that mean, Mabel?”

“It means he’s rubbin’ off you the wrong way, Eugene. In addition, if you want to cuss like a sailor, go to the barge and earn your keep.”

“Bad influence, in addition, money well spent on books, eh?”

“It’s our job innit? To become better and rise up?”

“Aye, that’s what I’m doing, Mabel.”

“Yeah, for the big house, huh?”

It was well-known throughout the orphanage how Eugene claimed that he would own that mansion one day. He used to get starry eyes when he started talking about it. If there was a child in Eugene, he came up in times like this.

“Hmm” rued Eugene.

“Speaking of that mansion, I got a job there, as a seller from the mansion.” Said Mabel with a smile.

“Fuckin’ result, that’s damn neat!” shouted Eugene excitedly as he hugged Mabel.

“Eugene!”

“Sorry, got excited in the moment.”

“That’s all right, I think it’s swell too. But if I want to study, I got to earn quick and stop working.” finished Mabel.

“Don’t worry about dosh, I always have some.”

“Sure, but no more scams alright? They’re cracking down on stuff like that.”

“I swear I’ll be sharp, Mabel.”

“As for Markus, look I don’t think he’s that bad, but he’s certainly an idiot. You gotta take care of him, make sure he doesn’t land in any scuffles.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Promise?”

“Sure”

“Look at you, taking charge.” Mabel grinned.

“Look at you, moving up and caring for Markus.” Eugene laughed.

“Hey Mabel, call me Flynn from now on.”

“No” giggled Mabel as she gave him a small peck on his cheek.

* * *

This happy mood was not to last, as it became clearer to Eugene that Mabel was becoming miserable a few months later, towards the end of the year. It was a mansion in all but name as her employer was a hard-hearted taskmaster, resorting to abuse if his targets were not met, and poor Mabel suffered the worst of it, both physical and emotional. As for Markus, his life had become tougher as the law was coming down on his operation, and it was becoming tougher to buy off the bargemen, the carriage drivers and the law as a result.

“Those sons of bitches, they dare PISS IN MY HAT?!” screamed Markus on one such day.

“Zip it Mark” Eugene tried to calm him down.

“If those bargemen don’t straighten up, I’ll set their fuckin’ ships ablaze, you hear me, Flynn?” Markus growled.

“You realize that they can wring your neck in one go, right? Don’t be stupid. Talk to them, reach an accord and put this shit to bed.” Eugene spoke.

“Reach an accord? Another expression from Mabel, eh Flynn?” Markus snapped

“Don’t joke about her right now, she’s in terrible shape. I gotta help her too somehow.”

“Then go with her, don’t worry about me, I’ll talk to them.” Markus said

“Yeah, burning their fuckin’ ships?!” Eugene exclaimed incredulously

“Hey, I was just hurtin’ and blowin’ off some steam there, alright Flynn? Even I know better than to engage those seven-foot giants in a mosh pit.” Markus replied.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go with Mabel. Just don’t blow your head open, Mark.” said Eugene as he went on his way to Mabel.

What he saw Mabel, it wasn’t a pretty sight.

There she was, in torn rags, bruised all over, beaten half to death and possibly molested, or worse.

“Eugene!” she cried as she collapsed into his chest, his vest quickly becoming wet from her tears and her blood as she sobbed.

“Who did this?” Eugene growled, even if he had half guessed who it was.

“They abused me and….threw me out in the middle of winter to fend for myself.” Mabel wept, as she caught her breath.

“The people at the mansion?”

“Yes”

“I had to do something I never thought I would do, even in the direst of situations.” Mabel cried.

“What?” Eugene asked, dreading how she might answer.

“I stole a week’s supplies, planning to escape from that torturous place. I thought I could get out of the city, after selling what I could, then go as far away as possible from there. But I was caught. Those bastards, they beat the life out of me, and stripped me naked and-.” Mabel couldn’t finish her sentence as she crumbled into sobs again.

Eugene tried holding on to her, tears ebbing out of his eyes, but Mabel pushed him away, clearly hiding something she either couldn’t tell Eugene out of shame, or at a loss to explain what had been done to her. Eugene considered going to the law, but decided against it, as it wouldn’t change anything. He was jolted out of his thoughts when Mabel began again,

“Eugene, you’ve always been good to me, thank you so much for that. But I’m afraid I must get out of this city, and never come back.”

“Wait, don’t go! I’ll make sure they pay, I promise.” Eugene pleaded.

“I can’t stay here after what happened, I must leave.” Mabel pleaded back.

“Eugene choked back a lump that threatened to become a bawl when he said “Alright, but at least take some cash.” He gave her his day’s cut of his operation, two Corona Marks, which would have been enough to sustain someone for a month.

Mabel embraced him in gratitude before scurrying out of sight. Eugene sighed “Maybe, someday, she’ll come back.”

* * *

Alas, but there was no joyful end to Mabel’s plight, as a rival gang member, jealous of Eugene, followed Mabel and beat her up again, and robbed her at knifepoint. He didn’t even spare her shawl, which she used for covering herself, leaving her further bruised, in tatters and only a few matchboxes to keep her company as it started snowing on Christmas eve.

Eugene was ignorant of this misfortune as he scurried back to Markus, who’d been done for.

It had started well for Markus, as he had managed to find common ground with the carriage drivers and most of the law enforcers, but he made the mistake of going alone without muscle to back him up. The bargemen took the opportunity to anger Markus, who lunged at them with his razor. But it was over in an instant for poor Markus, as the bargemen broke his neck with one smack of their hand, and law enforcers shot him in the head for good measure. There Markus lay dead, his face blackened and bloody onto the snowy streets.

Eugene stepped back from the corpse in horror at the realization; he’ll have to turn rat to save himself.

And so he did, in the snowy, dark night of Christmas eve 1820.

He went straight to the magistrate’s office, cut a deal with law enforcement to let him go, after ratting out everyone from the three rival gangs to the corrupt law enforcers and bargemen. It was mayhem in the city that night, as the rival gangs were dealt with extreme prejudice, and the other bargemen, law enforcers and carriage drivers were arrested and dealt with savagely. Even the smuggling cargo ships were set ablaze or sunk.

It was an emotionally drained and tired Eugene who started to arrange for his departure from the city on Christmas morning when he glanced at something, or someone that would stand as a sheet of flame in his memory forever.

There lay Mabel, cooped up in a street corner, under nearly half a foot of snow, frozen to death.

Evidently, the poor girl had burned up the few matchsticks that she had left to keep warm. She had also tried in vain to knock on the doors and beg to be taken in for the night. Tragically, the Christmas spirit of giving didn’t apply to a supposed bottom-feeding orphan like her.

But now, a crowd had started to gather around the frozen corpse, the people now showing sympathy to the lost soul according to their convenience. Eugene moved away from the scene in disgust. He hated it, he hated them all, he hated this fucking city. Fuck them, fuck them all.

As he moved towards the outskirts of the city, his aggrieved rage renewed when he saw the big house again. It all started here, for him, for Mabel, for all of them.

Once, staying in that house was all that he ever wanted.

Now, the mere sight of that monstrosity made him retch.

He sneaked into the house’s kitchen, lit some coals alight, and let them loose onto the flammable powdered flour. As for good measure, he barred all the escape routes once he came out, cut loose one of the tethered horses, and rode off into the dawn as the house started burning in earnest, and the screams of people being charred to death could be heard in the distance.

It was pandemonium with all this chaos in the city, with rumours of a certain Flynn Rider exposing the criminal gangs, the corrupt officials and the bargemen. It was further rumoured that it was the same Flynn Rider burnt down the house that rumoured tortured little children for amusement and made them work almost to death, directly in violation to the Monarch’s laws.

And thus, on Christmas day 1820, the legend of Flynn Rider came to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, this was a painful chapter to write.  
> As I can see, this is shaping up to be a neat Tangled-Frozen crossover, I promise I’ll get to everyone in time.  
> Hang in there, people!
> 
> As always, constructive feedback is always welcome.


	6. Of children fortunate and not so fortunate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, damn I haven’t done this in some time.  
> Well, the life of an engineer is a hectic one and I had written myself into a corner and was blocked for many days as a result. Not anymore. I have decided that I would update this once a week from now on.  
> We’re getting somewhere in this, hopefully you people enjoy it.  
> Let’s continue!

Throughout Europe, the new year was always celebrated with utter pomp and show, what with firecrackers bursting in the city centres and town squares and if there weren’t any firecrackers at hand, one could always fire a musket up in the air. Singing, dancing, drunken behaviour, smashing of public property, brawls and general noise. It was comforting to see that even though the major empires were coming up and clawing at each other’s throats on a regular basis, nothing would really dampen the typical European spirit even if some drastic changes ever happened.

Which is not to say they didn’t have different customs. The Ottoman Sultan for example, would start celebrating three days in advance, binging and drinking while being surrounded by scores of concubines, throwing golden medals and eggs onto the streets for all his citizens to collect. This pious act of charity was ample for the people to forgive the Sultan his misgivings. As for the Tsar, the rumoured massive drinking appetite of the typical Tsar held strong and displayed itself in all its glory during the coming of the new year, singing, jumping on tables, screaming Moktor! a drinking chant he had borrowed from his Arendellian ally, banging a kettle drum while removing his royal tunic and tying it around his forehead, it certainly wasn’t a sight the typical Russian nobles would forget easily even as they were busy distributing free beer and bread throughout St. Petersburg. The royal family of the Southern Isles always started as a family dinner but dissolved into everyone getting wasted and threatening to kill each other right then and there. However, for some unexplained reason, they always ended up weeping and caressing each other. One could be forgiven for thinking that it was an Irish wake, unsurprising as the Southern Isles had some sizable Irish ancestry. As for the Duke of Weselton, it was an opium binge, smoking up into the wee hours of the morning. If one made the mistake of asking the duke his plans during such a session, they could be trapped there for the rest of the day and miss the blessed celebrations. Now that his merchants had begun smuggling Marijuana from central America, those plans became more outlandish every passing year as the intoxicant made its way in the duke’s habits. The Monarchs of Corona were more chaste and less dramatic in comparison, nevertheless it didn’t stop them from holding a quirky national lottery at the end of the year in which save the crown, the state and the Monarchs, nearly everything was for grabs.

It could be a normal brooch, or a kettle, or something outrageous like the ancient Dusseldorf cathedral, or even better, the Munich Palace of Justice. However, short of the royal palace, nothing truly awed the people of Corona as the Mansion, a building so singular and unique in the Rhinelands that it had acquired a legend of its own. How that massive building was built during the earliest crusades in the holy lands, had sheltered thousands of innocents in the mindless massacres which was a hallmark of said crusades, how the same building became a terrible final place for those unfortunates who were accused of witchcraft and found guilty, how said building harboured the Coronian resistance as they battled the Habsburgs for the identity of Corona in the thirty years war. One could see that the Mansion was home to centuries of history both good and bad, a monument to human suffering and human triumph; it was a matter of prestige and honour to those who lived there.

Since the passing of the Patriarch, the Mansion was up for bid for the first time in fifty years. Unfortunately, the Mansion had been burned down, some said it was a careless baker, some said it was a figure as dark as night, yet many believed that it was Flynn Rider, the little boy who cast a gargantuan shadow in all of Rhineland, where some thought he was a hero who avenged someone dear to him and brought down tyranny, while some thought he was a rat bastard, who sold out everyone from his trade to escape the noose and ruined the businesses of the Rhinelands. Ah well, the public could never make up its mind.

Even though the public was upset by the loss of the Mansion, they had to agree that the Monarchs were generally generous in the lottery and accepted the loss with a heavy heart. After all, a cooking pot was much more useful in cooking than an entire monument , no matter how symbolic it was and how brightly it burned into oblivion.

* * *

Last but not the least, the kingdom of Arendelle often saw a lot of parades and street performances around that time of the year. Typically the various students who had come from abroad to study would often bring out a procession, banging some drums, beating some cymbals and singing songs in unison in their native languages, becoming a crowd of thousands as they used to go door to door, either offering food and gifts, and inviting those to join them who weren’t in severe want. The fact that It always snowed in the final fortnight of the year as if on clockwork never dampened their spirits. The evenings would often see people from all strata of Arendellian society coming together without social barriers. In recent years, the crowds had started becoming rowdier and more rambunctious, but they all settled as the Monarchs addressed them from their pedestal at the Royal Palace, bringing the year to a dignified end and rousing hopes for the new year. The Palace courtyard itself often became a fair ground, with various stalls selling delicacies, trinkets and souvenirs.

Queen Iduna had always enjoyed the fairs at the palace and meeting foreigners in the parades when she was a commoner, and now she loved it even more as she had her husband to share that joy with. It was a common sight to see the royal couple strolling around, meeting the stall owners, trying some exotic foods and relishing them. Now with baby princess Elsa, they had developed a very sweet tooth as well, they had been spoiled for chocolate as the baby girl always went gaga over the sweet. Even though she hadn’t yet spoken, by now her parents were well acquainted with sounds of disapproval or enthusiasm coming from her. For example, when Elsa tried to nibble on any sweet, she would always gurgle and moan and form wisps with her tiny fingers, which always succeeded in bringing a smile to the couple’s lips. After the exciting parades and stalls of food, the evening had surprisingly become calm as it approached the new year. Princess Elsa had had an active day, and now was sleeping in Queen Iduna’s arms in the royal bedroom, her face buried into her mother’s bosom.

“I guess Sophia is to take the credit or the blame for this” grinned Agnarr.

“Ha, yes surely. I wouldn’t put it past her at all.” smiled Iduna “However it’s a shame Elsa can’t drink the hot chocolate yet. It’s getting lonesome drinking it by myself.”

“What does that mean? It is OUR drink, right?”

“It was once, but then you got self-conscious about your health and everything.” Iduna teased.

“Well, I can’t really flaunt my stretch marks for my certification of fatherhood.” Agnarr teased back.

“That was rough. Parenthood has changed you for the worse.” Iduna laughed after staring at Agnarr for nearly a minute about that comment.

“On the other hand, I think you’ve become soft, I still remember the day you made the Duke of Weselton shit himself.” Agnarr smirked.

“Boo you, I’m with child.” Iduna accepted the challenge “I can still drive you around in circles, you know? You remember earlier today, when I made you cook an Artichoke salad for my cravings. Oh god, you were hunched over the damn stove. Good fun. And a story the whole litter would enjoy someday.” Iduna finished with a laugh.

“A whole litter? Dammit woman.” Agnarr laughed.

“Yeah, better stay in shape.” Iduna smirked.

“Alright, I admit defeat. I swear I can still hear the blessed kitchen ladies sniggering.” Agnarr backed off “Ah well, another bun hmm?”

“Yes, another bun. Due in early spring, if Dr. Klaus is to be believed.”

“I would wager my life under his knife, should the day come.” Agnarr said quietly.

“Hush, don’t say that.” Iduna whispered. “It’ll be a new year in a matter of minutes, how can you think of doom at such a precious moment?”

“It’s because I know how life can turn out for a lot of people. I tell you Iduna, all things considered we are luckier than most, and I know fate has a way of balancing the scales.” Agnarr replied with an inscrutable face natural to kings, but Iduna knew better.

“Look, it’s true we have been fortunate. However, we’ve had our share of suffering as well. We both have lost a lot in order to find each other and come together. You know, I still wake up sometimes looking towards the North, reminiscing what could have been if somehow war didn’t break out, and I would have become a herald for the voice, be one with the fifth spirit, who knows? However, I do know that if I hadn’t ventured south, I would have never met you. Not to mention the peace we brought together, the people we have allied with, the thousands of opportunities that have opened for the people because we have worked together and a lot more. Sure, we can lament what we were forced to give up, but then we wouldn’t have this, and we certainly wouldn’t have Elsa.” Iduna consoled him.

The king of Arendelle gave a weak smile and continued ” That is true, but her abilities do make me nervous. I hope we can mitigate any problems that arise from the fifth spirit’s blessing.”

“We got some time to figure it out. I know what you’re insinuating, no need to say it out loud, anyone could hear us. Look, the key here is proceed carefully, and to make sure she’s not afraid of herself. We’ll be there every step of the way, and I tell you this, our baby is going to dominate the world.” Iduna reassured the king.

“We certainly can’t let them do what they did to Rapunzel.” Agnarr shuddered at the mere thought of the incident.

“That will certainly not happen, believe me. Elsa’s a light sleeper, if anyone other than us dares to take her, she’ll shriek and bring the castle down.” Iduna tried to ease his worry with some humour.

“Ha, our proud little banshee.” Agnarr grinned.

They were interrupted by the fireworks bringing in the new year.

“godt nytt år, Iduna.” “godt nytt år, Agnarr.” Said the royal couple as they embraced, and Iduna felt Elsa smiling in her sleep.

* * *

While Elsa may have been at perfect peace with the world in that moment, another infant was not so lucky.

“Another fucking year gone.” Hissed princess Paulina of the former kingdom of Poland, as she tried to rock the five-month-old prince Hans to sleep in his cradle. The baby prince had always had trouble sleeping, but that was to be expected as babies generally need contact to grow properly, however the princess in question didn’t believe in it.

“Another year gone to shit, and I am just another windbag for your fucking father, eh kid?” the princess made a point not to join the new year’s celebration, citing colic as her cause of worry, but truth be told, she could never tolerate the whole family together at once. She was alone in a strange land, among strange people who didn’t think too much of her; Afterall, they had seen many like her come and go over the years. The only joy she found in her life was the one thing or person she could claim to be her own; her infant boy Janus, or Hans as his father preferred to call him.

“Your father professes his love for me, yet betrays me everyday with those loose women that lick his balls all day, his heart condition doesn’t flare up then, does it? He doesn’t fucking keel over then, does he? Your father promises he’ll bring justice to my homeland, and then has the entrails to stab me in the back by sending his fucking lapdogs to participate in the massacre of my poor people?!” She foamed at the mouth. Little did she care that her kid could not console her or understand her yet, her bitter vitriol needed to flow somewhere, and her infant was in the unfortunate way.

“But remember this Janus, someday you will bring glory to all of Warsaw, and bring justice to all of Poland and her murderers.” Whispered the princess as she calmed down and reached out to her child. The baby was only too glad for the contact and grabbed it with both hands.

“Good boy” whispered the princess with a smile to her fateful son, but the smile disappeared as she remembered what she had set out to do. The sheer memory of her father’s murder by the Russians’ firing squad as her family’s ancestral home of over three hundred years burned to nothing, made her blood boil to vapour. But she knew better than to make a public display of her misery. No, she would wait, and hold fast as her fateful kid would hopefully bring Europe to heel one day. But for that to happen, the child needed toughening up and foolish superstitions and fancies like love and family had to be quelled before they did any damage to her ‘chieftest pearl’. She pulled her hand away from Janus and walked to the window, not caring that the baby prince had started wailing loudly.

“Great, let it out, it’s just pain and anguish leaving you, little prince of destiny.” Whispered the now inscrutable princess as she witnessed the coming of the new year fireworks and chants from her dark little room.

“Godt nytår, Janus.”

* * *

More than 900 miles away, a craven boyish figure on a horse had nearly crossed the borders of Corona into France as he approached the city of Alsace, when he decided to take refuge into the chapel two miles ahead of him. The new year celebrations had long ended and everyone had fallen asleep, save for the priest in the chapel. Eugene walked up lead footed and tired from the expedition up to the chapel doors and then he knocked on the door.

The priest opened the door silently and saw the gruff boy and took him in at once. Now, Eugene’s week-long ordeal had exhausted him, and anything he could beg for was enough to feed only either him or his horse. More often than not, Eugene chose to feed the worn-out horse. But now, finally some good shelter for both the horse and Rider.

“Comment tu t’appelle?” the priest asked in a language Eugene didn’t fully understand. When the priest didn’t receive any answer that he could expect, he got up and peaked outside in the direction from which the little boy had ridden in.

“Tu parle Francais? Parlez-vous allemand?” The priest asked.

“Je parle allemand.” Eugene replied in the little broken French that he knew.

“Ah, Deutsch.” Replied the priest. Then he went in, brought a spare change of clothes and some bread and stew left from the celebration, and a quilt and mattress for the little boy.

“Essen, mein Kind” spoke the priest as her made the bed.

As Eugene bit into the bread, he couldn’t hold back any longer, and burst into tears.

The priest patiently waited for him to calm down, then asked him “What’s your name?”

“Flynn” the kid replied, his voice still raw from sobbing.

“You are far from home, aren’t you?”

“I don’t have a home, not anymore.”

“What happened to your home, your family?”

“It got burnt down, I tried to get help, but it was too late.” Flynn lied, fearing what could happen if he answered honestly.

The priest replied “It’s alright, my child. Please rest now, you may stay on or leave in the morning if you wish.”

“Danke, Vater” Flynn said.

“Frohes neues Jahr, mein Sohn. And don’t worry, your horse is safe.” The priest smiled and said quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was a different tempo for me in this chapter, trying to show one day from a lot of different perspectives. I’ll just say poor Hans for now.  
> As always, constructive feedback is always welcome.


	7. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s continue, shall we?
> 
> All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney, all I own is the story and some original characters.

Flynn had unwittingly grown used to a certain rhythm of life inside the chapel, deciding to help the priest with the upkeep. The priest was harmless and pleasant enough; always welcoming the people inside the church with an amiable face. His voice was always warm, never harsh, unkind or condescending. The priest was in his twilight years, but that didn’t stop him from helping those in need; be it a confession or an act of charity, the priest carried out his duties with heart and without complaint.

 _Oh, Father is happy with his lot_ , mused Flynn as he went about his work. If only he could say that about himself. Sure, it had been a nice change of scenery from the grit and grime of the streets of the Rhinelands, but that was the life he had always known. Sure, he hadn’t suffered want for the last two months, and the people had been kind to him, but that didn’t suit him. He considered himself too hard for this two-mule town. Moreover, the place spooked him out. How was it possible for every grotesque and angel in the church to stare directly at him, regardless of direction or position? Was he imagining things, or was someone devilishly smart enough to place them this way, for people to face themselves in their guilt after committing a sin? One thing was for sure, he had to leave. He could not afford to feel so vulnerable all the time. How could one survive when pierced by such hard hitting notions of moral good? It wasn’t a good survival tactic, especially for him.

The church was small but opulent. It certainly had a lot of gold that could set someone like him for life, but to him that wouldn’t do it. The hustle never ends for the street rat, so they say. Flynn decided to steal a little and flee in the dead of night; for he couldn’t face the priest and rob him, he would lose all conviction. Sure, he would break an old man’s trust and heart by stealing from him, but that would be better than looking him in the eye and robbing him.

_Now that was something Markus could have done._

Flynn’s face fell as he remembered his departed partner in crime; _now Markus would have had the balls to take what he wanted, and no god could have changed his mind. Unlike me, too emotional and too much of a wuss._

_I threw my heart around for everyone, and it got stomped on, every time. Markus left me, that epic moron, to end up being killed himself. So did Mabel, poor wretch, she didn’t trust me enough to let me help her, and she’s gone forever too. To hell with the both of them and their ‘ideals’ and ‘principles’, they got what was coming to them._

It was a bitter lesson for Flynn to accept, but in that moment, he took it heart. _There is no benefit in standing up for anything, as that is what the world uses to bring one down. The world runs on give and take, and his hands were meant to take._

He set his eyes on the two gold candlesticks. For some reason, they attracted his attention far more than the gem studded prayer basin. The candlesticks would surely be easier to carry, and he could escape without making any noise. So, he crept to the mass room in the middle of night, carefully lifted the two candlesticks and put them in the satchel he had taken from his living quarters. With that done, he made a beeline to the main door he had left ajar for this very purpose. He had already made sure his horse was untethered, so he could leave in as little time as possible. He was almost out when a familiar voice made him freeze in position.

‘Flynn?’

Ah, the thing he had been dreading the most.

The priest was holding a gas lamp in hand, which was a recent invention in Europe. Long gone were the days, when candle lights were the only source of luminescence. And surely, the mass room lit up and unmasked Flynn as the thief he was attempting to be.

‘What are you doing, child?’

‘Forgive me Vater, but this is no place for me. I’m leaving.’

‘With the candlesticks?’ An old man with unusually sharp eyes at night, truly a miracle.

‘Sorry Vater, I don’t have anything else.’

‘You could stay here, begin a new life and live in peace. You already congregate well and mix nicely with the local kids. Why ruin it?’

Flynn was starting to lose patience; _Why can’t this poor old fool see that I’m beyond rescuing?_

‘That’s very well, Vater, but it’s not what I want to do anymore. I must confess, it has been swell to be well fed and cared for under the watchful eye of the lord, but now it is time for me to venture out back in the open.’

The priest fell silent for a few moments. Flynn had never seen him deep in thought like this. Usually, the priest would always have a convincing answer to provide or question to raise. Apparently, this was not the case this time. At last, he spoke.

‘Well, I’ll give you two choices: either have a lifetime of learning, helping people, gaining contentment and giving back to the world, or have a lifetime of chasing the hustle, getting satisfaction and taking your piece. It is your decision to make, and I’ll respect what you decide for yourself.’

Unlike the priest, Flynn had his answer ready.

‘All due respect, I once had a friend who would have leapt at the first choice without bothering about the second. Alas, I ain’t that gifted. Sorry Vater, I can’t stay. My hands aren’t meant to give.’

There was pitch silence in the church, but Flynn knew that the priest’s hopes for him were shattered. Still, the priest had a solemn acceptance and resignation on his face when he said, ‘All right, I accept your decision. But do remember, if you change your path midway, it won’t be pleasant. Also, keep this document. It legally brands you as the owner of the two candlesticks. I may accept a crease or crack in one’s belief, but I cannot let sin abide in my church. So, I have absolved you of your sin of theft, you may leave in peace. May these candlesticks help light your path to success.’ Finished the priest as he handed a small piece of paper to the nine-year-old.

As Flynn took his leave and continued south in the early hours of the morning, he realized bitterly that he couldn’t ever part with the candlesticks.

* * *

A similarly desperate yet vastly different figure in stature and physicality rode on in the starry Arendellian night towards the north to find answers about her fourteen-month-old child of destiny.

Queen Iduna was eight and a half months pregnant when she made the trip to Grand Pabbie’s lair. The old rock pseudo human hermit was deep in his winter meditation, essential to keep the winters forgiving, but in that moment, queen Iduna didn’t care.

‘Grand Pabbie! Please help me! I’m in a desperate situation.’ Queen Iduna pleaded.

The sage opened his eyes and welcomed her graciously, but Iduna could sense that he didn’t appreciate the disturbance. Moreover, Grand Pabbie made his feelings clear in the very next moment.

‘Your Majesty, I respect your concern for your family and your child, but you must understand that I am accountable to an authority far greater than the crown of Arendelle, or all the crowns in Europe for that matter.’

‘Forgive the intrusion, oh great one. However, I’m at a loss for how to deal with my daughter Elsa. I love her with all I could ever give, but her powers are beginning to worry me a little. There have been multiple incidents where her powers have spiralled out of control. Her ice goes berserk at the worst possible moments. Just the other day, her cradle antics caused the entire south wing to be covered in snow. Thank goodness, there was no visitor in the palace, or our well-kept secret would have been out to the world. And another babbling child would not help the matter. Tell me Pabbie, should Agnarr and I be prepared for the worst?’ Iduna finished in a panicky state.

‘One must always be prepared for the worst, your majesty. Be it a genuine threat, or mere embarrassment in your case’ Grand Pabbie replied quietly.

‘Oh Grand Pabbie, you refuse to understand my plight. Elsa is our heir, and the days of witch hunts are not long gone. Must I remind you of the devastating division between the north and the south? Public knowledge of a child with powers does not bode well for us. All of Europe could declare war upon us from sheer terror, if the common people themselves don’t make short work of her. I can never stomach the possibility of my little girl falling victim to such atrocities.’ Queen Iduna wept vehemently.

‘Everyone gets what is coming to them. Starting with you, you have made a very poor decision to travel to my plain in such a delicate condition. With this poorly thought out choice, you could have put yourself and your to be born child at terrible risk.’ Grand Pabbie replied coldly.

‘Please don’t scare me further, I’m petrified enough. Early yesterday morning, I happened to come across of the written history of Agnarr’s family dating back from the fourteenth century, how there was another like Elsa, how she survived the black plague, how her powers were discovered, and how she was burned at the stake for the same. I would die before I could ever let that happen.’ Iduna finished with terror in her voice.

‘Alright, I have decided to help you. However, I would advise you to be very careful with your one question.’ Grand Pabbie relented and reassured her.

‘Thank you so much, oh great one! Please tell me, how could my daughter avoid such a doomed fate that killed her ancient ancestor? Is there a way to know how to avoid that danger?’

Even as Iduna finished asking the question, she realized it was not the right question, and Pabbie’s resigned expression upon hearing it confirmed her realization.

‘Your Majesty, can you ever ask a river how to avoid drowning in it if you can’t swim? Or ever ask a burning pyre how to avoid getting burned after touching it with your bare hand? Similarly, you can’t ask how someone could avoid their fate. Every choice people make, ever decision they enforce in their life leads them somewhere they may or may not like. Sure, there is a way for Elsa to avoid her fate and live peacefully, but for that to happen, she would have to walk on eggshells her entire life. You still wish to know how she would do that?’

‘Yes, it is better to know and to be prepared.’

‘Well, I see three instances in her life so far where her life could change in a split second. First, when the time comes, she must not panic. Second, when the time comes, she must not abandon those closest to her, and finally, when the time comes, she must not give in to rage, fear, anger and hatred. Can you make sure she holds true to these instances forever?’

Iduna was dumbstruck; she could not fathom how she would fit in her daughter’s split-second decision in these moments.

‘I don’t understand, Grand Pabbie, how do I help my child in this situation?’

‘That is what I am trying to tell you. Your child may have the gift over a force of nature, but she is still a human child. Soon she’ll grow up to be a lady who would be required to make her own life changing decisions. Such decisions are guided by instinct and experience, and many a times, one must make those decisions themselves. No one could influence them in that moment even if they wanted to. Therefore, you must trust your child to do the next right thing.’

Iduna finally put two and two together ‘I apologize in earnest Grand Pabbie. Agnarr and I will support Elsa no matter what happens, I promise.’

‘Don’t promise, just commit the deed. For you don’t owe me anything, It is a debt you have inflicted upon yourselves.’ Grand Pabbie warned.

‘I understand. Thank you. ’ Iduna finished as she moved to leave.

Grand Pabbie heard the call of the wolves harmonizing with the voice as he made a sudden statement ‘ Name your second born after the wolves, it is a name they’ll carry well.’

‘Alright’ Iduna said.

* * *

The ride back home was a little more relaxed as the queen found her way back in the palace and into her chambers as she saw Agnarr and Elsa sleeping peacefully. She had just laid down beside them when she felt something wet trickle down her leg.

Iduna woke Agnarr up at once

‘What happened? Feeling sick?’ Agnarr asked even as he was half-asleep.

‘Agnarr, I think my water has broken.’ Iduna replied.

The king was up in an instant.

When a new life announces its arrival, it always creates a hustle-bustle around it. It doesn’t care how much pandemonium is around it, it will make its presence known. King Agnarr held Elsa close to himself. Now the young princess was excited; she was going to be a big sister, or so her papa was telling her. Elsa kept kicking around, sending ice in all corners of the corridor. Agnarr had gotten used to her shenanigans by now, and while he didn’t mind her antics with her powers beyond a little embarrassment, he wished that she would go to sleep. But convincing Elsa to sleep when she could be getting a playmate soon? Easier to squeeze milk out of a stone.

Ah well, it will be over soon, the king thought.

It was a tougher birth than the first, with Dr. Klaus and his attendants trying their best to make the birth less effortful. Agnarr almost fell asleep leaning on the corridor walls when he heard,

‘You tell that son of a bitch to get his ass in here!’ Agnarr could recognize that shouting voice anywhere.

‘But your majesty, the king-‘ the midwives began.

‘I don’t give a shit! If I must squeeze this watermelon out of me, I want him to see that, goddamnit!’ Iduna bellowed from her chamber.

As Agnarr entered the room, he almost turned to leave to avoid being squeamish when Iduna called out,

‘Where are you going, you devil?! I’m not doing this alone, understand?!’

The king admitted defeat, handed Elsa to one of the attendants, and replied, ‘Of course, I’ll always be there for you.’

‘Your majesty, please breathe normally, keep pushing and avoid shouting, we’re almost done. You may clench the King’s hand if you feel abnormal pain.’ Dr. Klaus the consummate professional, urged the queen to calm down.

Iduna clenched on Agnarr’s hand, almost twisting it in the process.

‘Oh Iduna, please be careful.’ Pleaded the king through clenched teeth.

‘Oh Agnarr, fuck you, you aren’t squeezing this small animal out yourself, are you?’ Iduna hissed back as she concentrated on her breathing.

‘Agnarr, promise me something’ the queen started after an exhausting session.

‘What, love?’ Agnarr asked.

‘You won’t let them trap Elsa, you won’t let them doom her, do you promise?’ Iduna asked expectantly.

Agnarr answered within a split second ‘Of course, Iduna.’ A decision that would be immensely important and tough, but he didn’t know in that moment.

Then one final push and it was over.

* * *

It was a little bundle of energy, taking the dark hair after her mother, and her little nose and face after her father.

As the wolves howled in the early morning, Iduna knew what to call her second born:

Olva, Olva shall be her name.

As Elsa squirmed in the attendant’s hands, she moved back to her father’s embrace who introduced her, ‘Look here Elsa, say hello to your little sister Olva.’

The princess hesitated for a minute, then spoke, ’H-Hi Olba.’

Iduna and Agnarr were besides themselves with joy.

Her first word and sentence!

‘Congratulations your majesty! It is a girl! I am happy to report that mother and child are in perfect health.’ Dr Klaus beamed with satisfaction.

‘Thank you so much, Dr. Klaus!’ Beamed the king as he hugged the good doctor.

Iduna whispered to her new-born ‘Welcome to the world.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, another chapter like the previous one. Hopefully you people enjoyed it.   
> As always, constructive feedback and general comments are always welcome.


	8. Childhood, stories and role models

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some context in the beginning where every character is in the story at the moment, then a little bit about childhood

**Hi everyone!**

**Hmm, so I have introduced a lot of the main characters already in my fanfic. Here's a short summary of what defines each character and what has happened so far with them, if people don't fancy reading the whole story, or are confused by who's what. Also added some characters not introduced yet, titbits and many future plot points.**

**Runeard** :- Ruthless, oppressive tyrant whose destructive actions against the Northurldra are the lynchpin of the epic, and will affect Elsa, Olva(Original Character) and Anna decades down the line as they effect Agnarr and Iduna presently.

 **Agnarr and Iduna** :- The present king and queen of Arendelle(Stand-in for Norway and Sweden). They are presently in marital and familial bliss as they have just welcomed Olva in the family, just 14 and a half months after Elsa was born. They'll be put to the ultimate test of their lives soon enough.

 **Reginald and Sophia** :- The present king and queen of Corona(Stand-in for Prussia) and close friends of Agnarr and Iduna. Princess Sophia hails from Austria-Hungary, from the Habsburg clan. Their union has made them the dominant power couple in Central Europe. Alas their child, princess Eva Rapunzel has been kidnapped. They have spent a massive amount of their personal wealth on finding their daughter, building the kingdom's strength through alliances throughout Europe, but to no avail.

 **Princess Eva Rapunzel** :- Feared dead. There have been rumours of sightings in the small islands near Northern Cyprus in the present-day Ottoman empire, however the ships sent to navigate the region seldom come back, and the Ottomans are not too keen on helping Corona, ever since relations soured between the two when the Monarchs of Serbia were brutally assassinated. There are some disputable stories that claim that she may have the ability to grant life. (May have a fascination with the human body and healing and treating people.)

 **Flynn** :- Some very murky details on this one. An orphaned street rat who at one point supposedly ran the most profitable dodge racket criminal empire in the Rhinelands with fellow partner in crime, Markus. With Markus gone, Flynn is on the run, a warrant out against him where he has been charged with the burning of the Mansion, a very important monument to Corona.

 **Princess Elsa** :- The heir apparent to the throne of Arendelle, and the first-born daughter of Agnarr and Iduna. Blessed with powers over Ice, artistic and quiet, she may be destined for greatness, or great pain, whatever makes the mythical hero's sacrifice count. May have problems with self-worth, self-pity, anxiety, depression and emotional distance from her loved ones.

 **Princess Olva** :- The second-in-line for the throne, a feisty kid with an academic bent, cares deeply for her family. May experience trauma from an accident, in order to recover from said trauma, she may take the supernatural path destined for her. Unlike Elsa, she tries to live in the real world. She may not suffer from anxiety issues, but there may be problems with rage, bitterness, pain and obsessive tendencies.

 **Princess Anna** :- Soon to be youngest child of the Arendellian Monarchs, she is happy go lucky, loves her family and is outdoorsy. Which does not mean that she doesn't have dark secrets of her own. She may struggle with abandonment, trying to reconnect with those she lost. She wears her heart on her sleeve. Her innocence may be endearing to some, but the same quality renders her a target for the world. Despite all that, she tries to be courageous for those she cares for the most.

 **Prince Hans/Janus** :- The fated prince thirteenth in line for the throne, he may have an enormous responsibility entrusted upon him by his imposing mother. Is trying to find peace, may be a people pleaser but values freedom and joy over everything. May go to any length to achieve his desires. If not freedom, then power for sure. His heart may be driven towards the ocean.

 **The Northurldra** :- The largest minority in the kingdom of Arendelle. The Northurldra and southern Arendelle have been at loggerheads since the middle ages, but in recent history, the divide has been deepened when Runeard waged war against them. With the mist splitting the north from the south, the Northurldra have fallen on desperate times and must resort to piracy and smuggling. Growing resentment against the crown of Arendelle may lead to assassination attempts or might even lead to all-out war.

 **Kristoff** :- Not yet introduced in the story, but he is from a family of commoners with a trusty reindeer friend he calls Sven. His family cuts and sells ice for a living. After a nasty incident with some border bandits from the north, he's left alone in the wilderness where the clan of the rock hermits find him and take him in.

 **Grand Pabbie** :- The patriarch of the rock hermit clan, he is a being of half rock and half human flesh and blood, with vines and moss in place of hair. A supernatural being possessing great ancient powers, he is the curator and guardian of the Arendellian wilderness. Every winter, he goes deep into meditation in order to appease the gods to keep the winters forgiving. Knows past, present and future, but sternly believes in letting things take their course and not intervening with fate and destiny.

 **Queen Paulina Karazmov** :- The sixth and present wife of the king of the Southern Isles, she is bitter about the loss of the kingdom of Poland, which was her ancestral homeland. She hopes to see Poland rise from the ashes, even if she must sacrifice her son Janus, also known as Hans by his father, the king.

 **King Christian the eighth of the Southern Isles (stand-in for Denmark)** :- The present king of the Southern Isles, the king is in his late middle age, father to thirteen children. He is confident that his large family could help gain control in Europe and wrest the supremacy from the Habsburgs. Little does he fathom or know; he might be nursing a succession crisis in his wake.

 **Tsar Alexander the first of Russia** :- The sovereign of the Russian empire, the Tsar conquered Napoleon, but is in his twilight years. Seen as a respectable presence in Europe, he has often played the peacemaker. Alas, he is childless & on his way out and his two brothers are not very keen on succeeding him. One due to the huge responsibility, and the other due to fear, even though the fear is disguised as military discipline.

 **The Duke of Weselton (Stand-in for Belgium)** :- Considered a gangster among royals, he rules with an iron fist, forever subjugating and trying to weasel out a deal that makes him prosperous. At one point a staunch ally of Arendelle, he has had a falling out with Iduna and Agnarr over a dispute of sovereignty. Now he lies in wait, akin to a viper in the grass, whilst indulging himself with Opium and Marijuana, ready to strike and sink the treacherous kingdom of Arendelle.

 **The British and the French** :- The two great powers who sit and watch the whole drama play out, eager to switch sides on a whim, wherever their interests were better served. Bitter rivals throughout history, they have now come to a strained, mutual understanding of peace.

LOL, this is an entire odd chapter by itself. Ah well!

All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney, all I own is the story and some original characters.

Onward with the story :D.

* * *

Chapter 8: Childhood, stories and role models

A late evening in Midsummer, 1825, Arendelle

_King Agnarr's passion for books and stories was legendary. He had been collecting books since the age of five. He had books on all subjects, be it tales of ancient times, philosophy, nature, mathematics, the skies above, the sciences that dealt with the functioning of the world. Not to mention the private histories that he had collected of various people across the world. The lives o great people who lived centuries before him from lands as far as the hermit kingdom of Korea, the isolated lands of Japan, the protectorate of India and the Dutch East Indies (Modern day Indonesia). Stories that appealed to the greater good in all humanity._

_Stories of Warlords like Yi Sun Shin, the naval commander who defeated a fleet of nearly five hundred enemy Japanese warships, with only twenty-three ships under his command, using the ingenious turtleships, a fighting vessel of war centuries ahead of its time, when the Japanese invaded in 1592 to 1598, even as he was being hunted down by his own master, the king. Stories of supreme courage to fight against all odds for your homeland, be it the enemy or your own government._

_Then there were stories like that of Ashoka the Great, the ruthless emperor, warlord and warmonger whose name meant 'the one who never mourned', whose expansive policies brought all ancient India under his control, save for Kalinga. Said emperor was fair to his people and cruel to his enemies. Said usurper waged war against his hundred brothers when they were between him and the throne. Said conqueror vanquished the state of Kalinga when he declared war on Kalinga, where he was defeated even in victory. The cries of the mauled, dying and mourning forever left an impression on the emperor who hadn't known sorrow ever before in his life, who spent the rest of his life shunning conquest, embracing Buddhism, taking the path of non-violence and allowing his children to abandon their royal titles and become monks to spread the faith. Stories of war, conquest and eventual repentance, sacrifice, forgiveness and redemption._

_Tales of extreme dedication and unbreakable vows, like the one taken by Gajah Mada, the Prime Minister of the empire of Majapahit, who swore not to touch spice and experience pleasure until all the Indonesian islands were under Majapahit's control. It took him twenty-one years, but he did it._

_Tales of Kings, queens, warlords, soldiers and even a few common people with extraordinary fates._

_King Agnarr felt proud to have such stories of such people from around the world. How throughout history, people face similar problems and situations and how they rise to face them. He felt even prouder when he realized that his wife Iduna also loved stories. But the proudest moment for him was when he found out that his children had an even greater passion for reading than him. Elsa and Olva were nearly inseparable, taking great joy in reciting their favourite stories and playacting their favourite characters. The fact that Olva had an almost academic interest in Elsa's ice powers was also found to be very charming by the king. She would often challenge Elsa to make something out of ice, usually a new word or name of an object she just learned, and Elsa usually rose to the occasion and made it as if it was second nature._

'How can you make that, Elsie?'

'I don't know Olba, it just came to me.'

'Is that what a pearl looks like, Pa?' Olva asked her father.

'I'm sorry sweetheart, but it doesn't.' Corrected the king. 'This is a pearl' Said the king as he showed the corner jewel of his ring.

Elsa's face fell as she realized her crystal of ice was not the right shape for a pearl.

Agnarr asked Olva 'Well little one, where did you hear the word?'

Olva replied sheepishly a book 'In this big book, it was the only word I could get.'

Agnarr laughed inwardly as he realised that his five-year-old and three-and-a-half-year-old kids had stumbled upon a book written in middle English. Olva helpfully guided him to the place where she had read the curious word. He read the sentence in all the middle English that he could remember, which was ample in this case. It was a beautiful sentence:

'The smooth pearl doesn't pretend to shine, for it knows that it is close to the heart.'

Agnarr smiled, _my kids are too precious_.

He sat alongside them and said ' Well Elsa, the shape may be off, but it is a pearl for sure. Your ice is close to you isn't it?'

Elsa replied with a small voice ' I think so?'

'Yes, it is! She makes pretty things all the time. She loves it.' Olva chimed in.

Elsa blushed with a small smile 'It is very pretty, and I like doing it, so I guess it is close to me.'

'It is close to both of us, it is a pearl to us.' Olva added as she hugged Elsa from behind. Elsa didn't admit it, but she loved a good hug. She also loved to mess with Olva at times. She waved her little hands over Olva's head and declared 'I name this: vanilla on black forest.'

'Hey! Not fair Elsie!' said Olva as she brushed the thin snow frosting from her dark brown hair.

'Bahahaha, it's so much fun messing with you.' Laughed Elsa even as Olva stuck her tongue out. Elsa responded in kind with a raspberry.

'Alright girls, calm down, ma's here.' Iduna said as she entered the royal chambers with princess Anna, who had just turned two years old, and was learning to speak her first words.

'Snow!' cried the baby princess as she held her head with both her tiny hands.

'Hey Anna!' Both Elsa and Olva chimed in unison as they were beside their baby sister in no time.

'Hey Anna, want to see something?' Elsa spoke to Anna, always one to ask even though Anna never said no to her.

Elsa waved her hands to form a ball of ice, but the difference was that it glowed with a luminescence of its own, as if she had tamed a star into her hands.

'Whoa! Elsie, that's beautiful' Olva said, clearly taken in by the glowing ball of ice.

'Mine!' cried Anna as she reached out to it with her baby hands. She tried to bite into it, alas she was not prepared for the cold.

'Ow!' She yelped and started crying, as the ball of ice fell to the floor and was smashed into a thousand little pieces.

'Oh no!' Elsa wailed as she grabbed Anna and proceeded to comfort her in her arms. Olva joined in and tried to coo her and made clicking sounds with her tongue to calm her down. Eventually the redhaired princess, a quality she had inherited from her father, managed to calm down and started giggling in Elsa's arms as tears of relief ebbed from Elsa's face.

'I'm so sorry Anna.' Elsa wept quietly, even as Olva had now started to comfort her.

'She's all right Elsa, it was just a little chill.' Olva reassured the platinum blonde.

_The king and queen watched the scene play out from a small distance, curious to see how they would handle it. The princesses were all right in the end, the royal couple breathed a sigh of relief._

_Agnarr's thoughts drifted back to when they had first gotten pregnant with Anna; Dr. Klaus had advised the king not to conceive so quickly after Olva's birth. However, with the deed done, the good doctor advised the king to go for a caesarean operation when the time of delivery came. The king was vary about the procedure at first, but Dr. Klaus had pacified him by saying that it would be easier and safer for both the queen and the doctor. So, the third child was born and named Anna by them together. Elsa and Olva were almost immediately taken in by their baby sister and made sure to always keep her happy and entertained and make her feel loved._

_Iduna's thoughts were drifting too, albeit in a different direction. Sure, this was just a small accident, but who knew what could happen with Elsa's powers. She felt foolish in that moment; there was a time when she was comforting Agnarr in his moments of doubt, and now she felt the same fears, only much, much worse. She prayed to all the gods she knew to please let her children have a normal childhood. To not panic when in moment of vulnerability, to not abandon those who believed in her, not to give in to hate when the world was against her. How could her gifted, cursed child even begin to understand these things, much less take the correct decision when the situation arose?_

_Well, as her mother, she could cultivate a sense of responsibility in her eldest._

'Olva' Iduna called 'Today you and Anna shall sleep with Pa, Elsa will sleep with me.'

'Aw Ma why?' Anna asked even as Olva, who held her, was already snuggled beside her father.

'I need to talk with Elsa, she needs to know something. Good night.' The queen answered quietly. With that, she left the royal chambers to sleep in her own private quarters with Elsa.

'It's okay Anna, sleep with big sister Olva tonight' Olva said, then gave a small kiss on Anna's forehead as they both snuggled close to their father.

'Are you cross with Pa?' Elsa asked nervously when mother and daughter reached their chamber.

'No sweetheart' Iduna comforted her 'I'm here to tell you a story. I promised to tell you a story when you were ready, remember? Well, I think you're ready now.'

Elsa's face lit up as she remembered 'Oh yes! This should be fun! I'm ready.'

The little princess huddled to her mother's side as the duo settled in for the night.

'So, what's the story, Ma?'

'Well, this is a slightly different story than you are used to, little one. It isn't a story of magic; or of princesses being saved by their princes. No, this is a story of survival and sacrifice. The story of a woman who battled the world to protect her family, even if it cost her everything. It might be a story based on true events.'

'Oh, a true story?' Elsa perked up; true stories were a special occasion.

'Yes sweetheart' Iduna whispered.

_Iduna proceeded to tell the story of a girl like Elsa, her real name lost to time. The girl was in her late teens, had powers over water and lived with her family in Avignon, France in the 14h century, at the height of pope Innocent the third's rule in the catholic church of Rome. One year, the rains had failed, and famine threatened follow, leading to peasants dying in the thousands from thirst and rising in protest. The girl stepped forward to help the needy, using her powers of water to help those in need and to improve the scene. The pope did not approve; this girl was going to spoil the carefully laid out narrative he had created to destroy the heretic cathars by citing the drought as god's fury. How dare that pipsqueak stand in his way? To discredit her, Innocent the third branded her as a witch, and sent the papal armies and inquisitors after her. The girl had anticipated this and advised her parents and her little brother to escape as quickly as they could. As fate would have it, she was captured and tortured for weeks on end, as the inquisitors wanted the whole family to be vanquished for the crime of nurturing a witch. But the girl held strong, as her family escaped the clutches of the pope away from France with a heavy heart, the girl was sentenced to burn at the stake. The girl went to her death quite bravely, but her screams as she burnt continued to haunt the memories of the local people for centuries afterwards and in time, the girl was canonized as saint Vida of Avignon. Her parents died from the grief, however her little brother survived and found himself in Arendelle. In due course of time, he became a powerful official, and his descendants went on to inherit the crown of Arendelle._

Elsa listened to the story in stunned silence, and once Iduna was finished with the story, she asked one question 'So the little brother is my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather?'

'Yes, most likely.'

'I wonder what the girl felt as she died, did she feel sad or happy?' Elsa mused

'Why would she feel sad or happy, Elsa? I think she was very scared.'

'Alright, but was she sad or scared that she was going to die, or happy that she saved her family?'

'I think she felt both at the same time.'

'Can you feel sad and happy at the same time, Ma?' Elsa asked. Iduna began to worry that with questions like that, Elsa was not going to go to sleep. Maybe she chose the wrong story to tell?

'You will find out on your own someday, now close your eyes snowflake.'

As Elsa settled down to sleep, she murmured 'I think, if I was in her place, I would do the same.'

Iduna thought, _god forbid should the day come, I fear you might have to._

* * *

_Across the North Sea towards the south, in the Southern Isles_

Queen Paulina was reeling with frustration and anger after another attempt at insurgency into Russia had failed. Her trusted aide, one she had personally broken bread with and had appointed in her service, had tried to poison prince Nicholas in order to prevent him from coming to the Russian throne. If it had gone to plan, the military man would die along with the aging emperor who himself was knocking on death's door, and prince Pokhilarpov, the weakling that he was, would be her puppet as Poland would come back to Europe. Alas it was not so, as her vassal had been intercepted and caught by the prince's private guard. At least he had the decency to poison himself to death before he could be questioned, so she was safe for now. Nevertheless, it was a source of anxiety and anger.

Queen Paulina was counting her losses and planning her next move when her son, prince Hans came running and crying to her. He was wet from head to toe, his fine tunic was tattered, and his face was swollen from the beating he had received in a scuffle, blood ebbing from his forehead. In his hand, he held a torn piece of paper that once had been a paper boat. 'Ma!' cried the young prince of five years of age 'Look at what they have done!'

'What are you crying about now?' Asked the exasperated queen. _This boy needs toughening up, he never ceases to cry, the insufferable coward._

'I was near the pool, playing with the boat I made, when the triplets came and pushed me into the pool!' The prince wailed.

'And?' The queen asked.

'When I climbed out to fight them, they punched me in the face, tore my clothes and, and me boat.' The prince finished and started crying again.

'So instead of taking out an eye, you came running back to me? What are you going to do in life? Hmm?' Hissed the irritated queen 'I have bigger troubles to deal with than a squabble between toddlers.'

'Please, Ma. Help me' The prince begged as big tears rolled down.

'Not until you stop crying. Even then why should I help you? This is between you and the triplets. Ask help from your elder siblings if you're so desperate.'

'They hate me, I heard them say that they wished I was dead.'

'What?!' The queen screamed, it was not enough that she had enemies all over Europe, now she had these runts threatening her own child? 'Alright, stop crying, I'll take them to task.'

It was a heated conversation between king and queen when she badgered him in front of their children and ministers, in the imperial court. The king had always avoided conflict, so it was natural that he was severely outclassed by his determined wife.

'Please calm down, Paulina, I can't discuss this here. Please understand.' The king pleaded.

The queen would not back down this time 'I'm supposed to calm down?! When YOU've ignored your children and have failed to see that they are at each other's throats?! I'm supposed to care for decorum and understand your position, when YOU plan for an early grave, while your children are waiting to be let loose and go picnicking on each other?! You nurse snakes in your garden, and cry when you get bitten, who the fuck do you think you are?!' The impossibly irate queen finished her rebuke even as the king's officials and ministers quietly bid their leave.

'Please breathe sweetheart, are they not your children as well?' The king tried to pacify and prod his queen at the same time. A spectacularly poor decision on his part.

'My children?! If they were my children, they wouldn't ever dare say such things. Admit it, you are at your wit's end, aren't you? You don't know how to raise your own children anymore, do you? Looks like I'll have to deal with them personally.' The queen finished with a growl, implying dire consequences for those who had stirred her wrath.

_The king was terrified. Of all his wives, she was the only woman who had reduced him to such a quivering, pathetic state. He was scared in general of her, but there were moments like these, when he was truly frightened of her. At one point, he was formidable, unbeatable, invincible. This woman had reduced him to a scraggy, whining fool. At one point in his life, he had known how to laugh, now all he knew was fear._

'No, Paulina, please do nothing of the sort, I'll talk to them personally, I promise.' The king pleaded with folded hands.

'You better do so, lest I strip these baboons myself and have them made into shoes.' The queen relented, in her own way.

Outside the courtroom, Janus was in a corner hearing everything with an expression of horror.

* * *

_An island off Northern Cyprus, the Ottoman Empire_

_It was a curious place to be sure, the tower was black like obsidian glass, smack in the middle of the dense forest. Who thought a small island could have such a jungle? But the tower had a treacherous secret of its own; if anyone had tried to touch the stony tower in order to climb it, the unfortunate person was reduced to ash and powder in a matter of seconds. If anyone was lucky, they may leave a skeleton behind as a terrible warning to all. At one point the six-year-old girl living in the tower wanted to remove the bones, but her mother advised against it; she may catch a curse herself if she touched the remains. So, the little girl had little in the way of distraction; Maybe paint a bit, frolic around the castle for a bit, trying not to trip over her golden blonde hair even as her hair grew longer than her body, often using the same hair to bring back to life the young birds who had been killed while perching on the tower, while telling them to avoid her mother's vegetable patch._

She loved how the hair glowed like the sun when she read the incantation in her head. She enjoyed seeing the little birds wake up as if from a deep slumber, before flying away. She also loved taking care of the vegetable patch, feeling a great sense of pride when the land produced good legumes. But her mind always wandered back to the remains, how she felt that perhaps, the people lying there didn't deserve to die. Unknown to her mother, she had tried to bring the skeletons back to life, but she fainted, and all she saw was black. When she came to her senses, she found her mother holding her on by her bundle of hair for dear life, her face wet from tears.

It was then she understood, it was too late for them, and she had nearly died in the process of reviving them. Never again would she touch the remains.

All in all, it wasn't a bad life in the tower; she had everything she needed, a soft bed, good food, and materials for creating art. Once she found out how far her mother had to travel for said materials, she appreciated them even more. However, there was one thing that wasn't there in the tower.

The only thing she wanted, was to go outside the tower, to see the world, to get out of the tower. If she was to choose the day she wanted to go, it would be the day the people in the distance let loose thousands of lanterns every year. It was a special day for another reason, the lanterns always flew up on her birthday. Oh, to experience that in person!

She was broken from her thoughts when her mother called out 'Rapunzel! Time for lunch.' The owner of the voice was a dark-haired woman with exotic features, with eyes that revealed a life lived far longer than what the face showed.

The little girl responded 'Yes, Gothel.' It felt strange calling her mother by her name, but if she preferred it that way, who was she to complain?

* * *

Oh, this was a big one, I think.

We're getting close!

As always, feel free to tell me how you feel with regards to the story. Love it or hate it, please feel free in letting me know :D

Until next time.


	9. An attack and the accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Hope you liked the previous chapter.   
> Someone sent me an anonymous message asking me whether every main character may have a story pulled from history to relate to. I would like to say that nearly every character would relate to someone or some event and I hope that you readers find the thematic relations to be resonant with the story.   
> Note: Of course, even though there was no saint Vida of Avignon in actual history, Pope Innocent the third’s persecution of the cathars was a real, horrible, occurrence in 13th century France, not 14th century France, sorry for that error :P.   
> I’ll let you decide how Europe would react to finding evidence of magic in the nineteenth century.  
> Anyways, onward with the story!

Early December 1827, Northern Arendelle.

It was a chilly winter wind on a chilly winter evening that cut through the night skies and the sparse land just south of the mist like a red-hot knife cutting through butter, accompanied by a noise like nails on a glass pane. A trio were passing through, struck by poor timing and bad luck, leaving a faint trail of blood behind them. They were quite possibly the only survivors of a cruel ambush laid out for them. The trio were of the Iceni tribe, one of the most ancient tribes in Arendelle, tracing back their ancestry to ancient England. With the rise of the Romans, the Iceni mostly petered out, with a few emigrating to Arendelle. With the passage of time, the Iceni combined forces with the tribes across the country and became a force to be reckoned with as the Raiders who ravaged all of Europe, from the Northest part of Greenland right to the borders of the Caliphate in Spain. Sadly, those days were long gone, as the ideological split from the south cost the tribes the security and any prosperity they had. It was hard to believe that those formidable tribes, who once held all of Europe in terror, were now reduced to pockets of settlements across the northern wilderness, being forced to adapt to the new world.

Of all the raiders, only the southern Arendellians and the Northurldra truly retained the seafaring capability. The Iceni stuck to land. To compensate, the Iceni knew the land better than anyone else in the country and found new livelihoods in mapmaking, surveying, transporting goods across the land. The Iceni were also among the few who kept the voice going by anointing heralds regularly to be stationed at different parts of the country. In many ways, the Iceni were the unappreciated lifelines who kept the country afloat, for they were in every strata of society, from the miners to the businessmen, to even the king’s staff and courts.

And some of them were ice harvesters and sellers, crucial for preservation in a time before one could refrigerate their supplies. It was to this trade that the trio belonged to. A man, a woman and their eight-year-old boy, in tow.

The man, who went by the name Guthrum, was limping in the three-foot snow that surrounded him. The man stood tall; six foot four on a good day. However, this wasn’t a good day, as he had suffered a grievous injury to the gut and had to use the support of his wife, named Freyddjis, herself a six- footer. He had been bleeding through his stomach into his reindeer-wool coat and pants, the browns of the fabric turning first to burgundy, then to crimson from the blood.

They were almost through the shallow bed of snow when the little boy with them winced with pain. His leg had been sprained in the escape, and he had to jump into the water with his parents to escape the attack, so now the cold was getting to him as well.

‘Ssh shh Kristoff, hold on, I’m sorry.’ Freyddjis whispered as she readjusted her son’s grasp on her back and torso and straightened her arm to further support her injured husband.

‘Freyda…’ Guthrum began to speak, in a voice weak with fatigue and injury.

‘Breathe, my love, we’re getting close to the settlement. Don’t give up please.’ Freyddjis pleaded to her husband, making every attempt to keep her husband awake and not fall unconscious.

‘I was a fool; I should’ve known better than to guide them all to that cursed valley.’ Guthrum hissed painfully as his wounds had begun troubling him again; the loss of blood had begun to make him delirious.

‘Don’t blame yourself, the decision lay with the leader and everyone else. We all knew the risks of travelling through the valley of death. We knew what could happen if the Northurldra were disturbed. We gambled, and we lost.’ Freyddjis tried desperately to calm her husband down, trying her best to ignore the doom rising in her own belly and throat. 

‘Now what shall I tell Hardrada’s widow? How she b-begged him not to go. She made me a request, not an oath, a plea to protect him, so that he m-may see h-his....i-infant come in the w-world . How shall I face her? How….....how w-will I…….find the courage…to f-face her?’ Guthrum spoke haltingly as his wakefulness began to falter and his throat went dry, even as tears fell from his disoriented eyes.

‘Don’t think about that, we’ll face her together, I promise. Don’t give up now, please.’ Freyddjis tried in vain to subdue the lump in her throat that rendered her voice thin with emotion. ‘We need to get under cover soon, they’re still following us. I know it, I can feel them getting close.’ She shifted her gait to prevent Kristoff from falling. The boy had been wide awake all this time, his wounds not so serious, but the cold was still a concern. The boy also felt dread; for he had never seen his parents so feeble before. The boy had known fear before, sure, however this was a new feeling. This horrible feeling, as if he was about to learn what loss was and there was no coming back from this event.

‘Freyda, you’re......you’re one in a million, you k-know that? I-I made the guh..ggnnnn....the greatest decision of m-my life making y-you my wife. You- you did your best with m-me. Now go. L-leave me be, I’m done for.’ The man spilled some blood from his mouth as he finished speaking, adding to the delirium and the cold, this was not encouraging at all.

‘Shut up, you fool! You’re not dying today, do you understand! We’re close to the mountains of the stonepeople. It is an hour’s trek left at most through the forest, we’re halfway through it. I know you can hold on. I know it.’ Freyddjis growled at her husband, ever as the mere possibility of the event brought tears to her eyes. In that moment, Kristoff was afraid of everything; what could happen in the next moment, what could happen tomorrow morning, would his father be all right, how would he and his mother get by, everything. It wasn’t fair; he was so young, too young to ask such heavy questions. It seemed that he was learning a lot in a very short time. His father’s voice broke his chain of thought.

‘Freyda, I know you’d n-never leave me. I’ll make the choice easier. Just k-know that I......I love you and little Kristoff. Forever.’ 

With that, Guthrum summoned his remaining strength, pulled out a well-concealed pistol and shot himself through the head, from temple to temple.

BOOM!

A thunderous, deafening noise. Then the man hit the floor, his face blackened and bloody from close impact. It was a terrible mess.

The tree upon which his body fell, became dyed with blood and grey matter. In the dead of night, illuminated only by a pale crescent moon, the tree with red leaves having five edges, and the alabaster bark of the great Snowpillar tree;

The great tree symbolic of death to the Iceni, painted red by fate and by the bravado man may feel in his final moments.

It was all a haze to Kristoff, who couldn’t register anything around him in that moment. Somehow his vison became blurry, his ears fell numb, his limbs felt rigid. And yet, his eyes were transfixed on the lifeless body of the man who was until ten minutes ago, his father.

And yet he could say nothing, do nothing. Couldn’t shout, couldn’t kick, couldn’t put his mind at ease at all. A dull voice persisted in his head; the painful screams and cries of his mother whose voice felt present and far away all at the same time.

In the distance towards their left, deep in the forest, a few lights lit up.

_Friends? No. Foes. Definitely foes._

Well, Kristoff was the man now. He had to rouse his mother.

‘Mum’ he slid off his mother’s back said, ‘I see lights coming.’

Freyddjis came out of her grief with a shock. Foolish, very foolish to scream in the forest at night, especially for a deceased one. Her mind became unnaturally alert and active, thinking a thousand miles in a thousand directions per second. After a moment of quick reasoning, she handed him a knife and spoke softly ‘Kristoff, my love, listen carefully. We’ll have to part. Run. Run away from here. Away from me, as fast as you can. Your life depends on it. Don’t look back, whatever happens. I’ll come back for you soon. I love you.’ With that, she embraced him fiercely and smothered him with tearful kisses.

A pang troubled his mind. What if.......

‘What if I get caught?’

Her answer came, chillier than winter’s cold. ‘Use the knife. Die fighting. They will not be kind to you.’

With that, she was gone, drawing the attention of the lights to her, disappearing into the thick darkness of the forest and the night.

Kristoff had never run so fast in his life, at least how fast his sprain would let him. Running blind through the forest, caring not for the frightful spirits whose myths he could listen to all day from his mother. The moon was being mean-spirited in lighting his way towards the mountains of the stone people, at times being blocked by the clouds, at times by the leaves. How the trees rustled around in unease, in disdain, as if teasing and mocking his attempt at escape. The hissing and growling in a language from the Snowpillars, in an ancient tongue he didn’t understand.

Old, primal, mystical, terrifying.

He stopped dead in his tracks as the growling became more prominent, recognizable and severe, a knife drawn out in his trembling hand. _Is this it? Will the spirits kill me?_

His question was answered almost instantly as a pair of yellowish-green lights lit up at once from up ahead. Lights that were like eyes. Eyes of a beast. A beast looking to kill.

A mountain lion, probably disturbed in its attempt at finding food for himself by these fools making a ruckus. What the great beast may have lost in some wily stag, it could have found in this human kid. It was graceful in its movement as it climbed down from the tree and faced the kid, like a well-seasoned thief stealing a prize through sleight of hand. Every move deliberate, every stride and crawl graceful, every intention murky and dangerous.

Kristoff could only stand frozen in fear, even if the knife stood up in his hand, rudely challenging the predator. _Please, please don’t kill me._

The mountain lion growled and bared his deadly canines, as if insulted and slighted by the non-verbal cry for mercy. It was almost ready to pounce when---

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A succession of musket fire, followed by a painful scream cut short, sending ripples throughout the jungle. The mountain lion changed its stance completely, faced the direction of the source of the noise.

This abrupt distraction was enough for Kristoff to try and escape. Unfortunately, he had forgotten that he was at the edge of a steep valley. One false step and that was it.

He fell screaming, headlong into the valley. He tried to stall his descent somehow, but to no avail. With nothing else left to do, he closed his eyes, and braced himself for the impact.

It was by sheer accident that his fall was broken by the river blowing at the base of the valley. The river that shone like silver in the pale moonlight. He may have escaped the possibility of splattering himself from the fall, but the sheer tension from the surface of the water drew out a cry of anguish from him as he landed into the water. To make matters worse, the danger of drowning had multiplied manifold.

He tried grasping for the bank as the pace of the river quickened as it descended from the mountains. Even as water rushed into his lungs, he tried further and did his best to keep his head above the water. Finally, after several minutes, the river decided to relent and slowed down. Kristoff used all his remaining strength to swim and crawl towards the shore. With the solid ground of the riverbank firmly under him, he fell, exhausted.

Before he lost consciousness, the last thing he remembered seeing was a feminine figure, but somehow not a human. More like stone. Stone covered with moss and remarkably, flowers. In the middle of winter.

And then. Darkness.

* * *

A fortnight later; the eve of the winter solstice, Arendelle, 1827

‘Wow, Elsa! You’ve outdone yourself!’ Both Anna and Olva squealed delightfully in unison.

‘Thank you, thank you! I didn’t know I had it in me.’ Answered Elsa, flush with excitement. The creation which the three sisters were talking about was a massive chandelier she had made of ice in the ball room. Elsa loved designing chandeliers. The geometry, the scope, the intricacies, the elegance, the weight, the beauty. How every piece is perfect in its alignment, how every facet angled to reflect the maximum amount of light possible. She had discovered her passion for it when she was seven; she had gone with her mother and sisters to Russia, to the courts of the Tsar. How his palace was gigantic, how his hall was huge, it could have easily housed a thousand people at a time. And the chandelier! She could observe it forever.

However, the exact replica she had tried to make was no less a marvel. She had worked on it for almost a year, making sketches, obsessing over it in her bed, late at night. To see every turn, twist and bend of the hanging piece of glory. Scribbling a line here and there, a short diagram between comprehension, some more figures in arithmetic. She had even got a scolding from Iduna once when she had absentmindedly written something on the tablecloth while eating supper.

Ah, but now, the whole thing was etched in her memory like carvings on granite. She remembered everything from memory. Building it was no effort surprisingly; she kept the figure with detail in her mind, conjured a glowing ball and shot it towards the ceiling of the ballroom.

It was beautiful, almost otherworldly in its appeal; for no chandelier in the world lit up to a blue of this shade. What made it even better was that the ballroom was not as big as the Tsar’s court, which made the chandelier even more gigantic and beautiful.

‘This is amazing!’ Anna chirped. The five-year-old never grew tired of Elsa’s abilities. Be it early morning, late afternoon, or the middle of the night, the redhead was always eager for the platinum blonde’s magic.

‘It’s wonderful. How long did it take you to make it in your head?’ Olva asked with the curiosity only she had; the dark-haired girl always took so much interest in her powers, like someone trying to uncover a mystery, completing a puzzle. In such thrilling moments, she always had a far-off glow in her eyes. She loved Elsa’s power in her own ways, different from Anna’s adoration. Olva had more excitement and respect.

‘When did you learn all this, Elsie?’ Olva asked with genuine admiration.

‘Umm, between you two pulling my leg and getting me involved in all your hare-brained mischief and fun.’ Elsa replied with a wink.

‘Hardy hardy har. You know you love the trio.’ Anna quipped with a grin as Elsa nodded with a smirk. Olva laughed, _oh these two._

‘I’m not done yet.’ Elsa said with a mischievous smile.

‘What, there’s more?’ Anna perked up.

‘Yes, but first, the last one to get up from their bed has to bring us hot chocolate.’

‘Hmmm, who could that be now?’ Anna asked with an impish grin looking towards Olva.

The trio already knew who it was, but Olva begged to differ.

‘Hey, it was who got to the ballroom last. I remember very well that I was the first one in, I made sure of that. I sprinted out of bed, got in before you two. Therefore, Anna should be getting the hot chocolate, not me.’

‘No, it was who got up the latest, it always has been, why would we change it now?’ Anna said.

‘Yes, not our fault you were fast asleep.’ Elsa added.

‘So, I sprinted and nearly slipped on the staircase for nothing?’

‘Yes, apparently.’ Elsa replied with faux concern and hidden fun-poking in good humour

‘Boo, the both of you, how do I win? Anna sleeps on time of an owl, and Elsa’s too excited for her birthday. Not fair.’

‘Come on, you know it will happen every time. Besides, you make the best cup of hot chocolate ever.’ Elsa began.

Olva put on a haughty air ‘Hmm, it is true.’

Elsa and Anna smiled to each other. _See, it never fails._

‘All right, I’ll get it. But don’t start anything without me!’ With that, the dark-haired princess rushed to the kitchens.

A few minutes passed, and Anna began to fidget.

‘What is taking her so long? We’ve been here for _daaayyyyyyss_ ’ Anna was a natural at exaggeration.

‘You know the kitchens are on the other side of the castle, right?’ Elsa told her little sister.

‘So? Can’t she hurry up? I’m getting bored.’ Anna replied.

‘She’ll be here in couple of minutes, don’t worry.’ Elsa assured her.

‘Say, what if we ice the floor?’ Anna asked with a grin.

‘Oh no, Olva would not like that.’ Elsa backed away

‘Oh come on, she would just join in the fun, you know her.’ Anna said.

‘Guess I got talked into it, huh.’ Elsa said with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk.

‘Yes!’ Anna could barely contain her excitement.

Elsa closed her eyes, twirled around and stamped her foot on the floor. On cue, a thin layer of ice blanketed the floors of the Ball room, with the little princesses going giddy over the patterns the ice formed. Anna began to skate along one of the patterns, only to fall flat on her face.

‘See Anna, I told you to wait. There are many more ways to fall.’ said Olva as she glided in, making a perfect loop, doubly impressive with her carrying a tray and a box as well.

‘Here’s your hot chocolate, you lunatics. Enjoy.’ Olva laughed.

‘Gimme gimme gimme!’ Anna squealed as she got up.

It was worth the short wait. Olva created magic when she had sugar, milk and chocolate in her hands. It tasted like heaven.

‘Mmhmm, when did you learn to make it so well?’ Elsa asked with a contented sigh.

‘You know, between you two pulling my leg and I being left behind to cover up for you.’

_Touché._

‘What’s in the box, Olva?’

‘Well, it is our birthday gift for you. Happy birthday Elsie’ Olva and Anna beamed.

Elsa hugged her sisters together in an instant, with tears of joy in her eyes ‘Thank you, thank you so much, both of you!’

Anna and Olva hugged her in return, while exchanging glances of victory. _We’re good at this._

Elsa opened the box and there it was; a wooden carving of an eight headed star, complete with carvings indicating facets and faces of crystals, along with three dolls made of cotton and felt, each signifying one of the sisters. 

‘Oh you two, you precious little kittens! Thank you so much! Ask me anything, I’ll give it to you right now.’ Elsa giggled.

‘Hmm, we’re missing something here. What do you think is missing here?’ Olva began.

‘Snow!’ Anna finished.

‘Of course, I’m feeling kind tonight. How much snow, my humble citizen?’ Elsa moved with a show of royalty; something that came naturally to her as she was the heir apparent to Arendelle.

‘Oh, your majesty, the whole room!’ Anna joined in the fun, always up for a caper, a commoner at heart.

‘My liege, I must say, we need to be able to leave safely and in one piece once we’re done.’ Olva joining in as well, ever the voice of reason.

‘Well said, noble adviser. Shall three feet of snow be good?’ Elsa addressed Olva, clearly enjoying herself.

‘Ample, your majesty.’ Olva finished. This was a special occasion, after all.

‘Very well. Now let’s get this bastard up in the air.’ Elsa said, dropping the regal flair at once and shooting the glowing ball of snow in her hands towards the ceiling.

‘Ooooooh naughty word!’ Anna cooed.

‘It’s my birthday, who’s gonna stop me?’ Elsa said in mock defiance.

‘Yes, tonight we shall cuss like gutterheads!’ Olva heartily laughed as she looked upwards to the ceiling only to remark, ‘Hey, is it snowing from the chandelier?’

‘Damn right it is.’ Elsa announced it in pride.

‘You magnificent shhhhee wolf.’ Olva called out.

‘You worked hard to control yourself, didn’t you?’ Elsa asked

‘Yes, you ice-shitter.’ Olva said

‘Oooh, there’s going to be trouble for that!’ Elsa laughed.

‘Yes, a fairy tale! To rescue her rowdy friend, the princess must calm the snow queen and survive her quests and save the day. Also, the floor is lava!’ Anna yelled in excitement.

With that she began to jump on the snowy bed, already two feet thick. ‘Wait, dear friend! What about Olaf?’ Olva called.

‘Olaf?’ _Oh yes, how could she forget?_

The trio get down to business, building a snowman who always had the same name. they always argued about the design, but hilariously always ended up making the snowman the same crooked way they always did. Olaf, the snowy saint of friendship and family. With a love for warm hugs, of course.

With Olaf’s blessing, the trio began their fairy tale, the snow queen giving the adventurer higher platforms of snow to jump from, to save her trapped friend. Anna going higher and higher towards the ceiling.

_Wait, what are we doing?! She’s gonna fall terribly from that place!_

Olva suddenly realized with horror. ‘Elsa, stop! Anna’s gonna fall!’ Olva screamed.

Elsa broke out of her birthday high to see where Anna was. From a pleasant dream to a terrible nightmare ‘Anna, wait, slow down! I can’t keep up!’ Elsa shouted.

Alas! The little redhead was too excited to listen. ‘Catch me, o queen of ice and snow!’ she yelled as she leapt from the chandelier.

In her haste to help her, Elsa slipped on her ice. It had never happened before. Even as she fell herself, she tried to save her baby sister ‘Anna!’

Smack! Went the ice to Anna’s head. She was stunned into unconsciousness as she landed head-first on the snow three feet deep.

‘Oh no!’ Olva screamed again as she rushed beside Anna, right beneath the chandelier.

But it wasn’t over, for Anna hadn’t been the only one, or thing caught in the crossfire. The chandelier of ice cracked dangerously from the top and went into freefall.

‘Olva, get out of there!’ Elsa yelled through her tears threatening to fall and crash any second.

Olva used all her might, trying to drag herself and Anna as quickly as she could. While Olva was ultimately successful in pulling Anna away, she herself was not so lucky. While she avoided the worst impact of the chandelier, she was knocked unconscious by the corners of the chandelier and her left side, from head to hand, was pierced by scores of tiny icicles, forming horrible scars and blood flowing from the tiny cuts.

Elsa was dazed in shock; _what just happened? A minute ago, we were playing and now this?_

She rushed to the side of her sisters. Anna had a streak of white running through her red hair and Olva’s cheek and forehead scars had begun to redden. In her fear, the three-foot snow became a solid block of ice. Elsa could do little but hold her unconscious sisters close, scream for her parents and cry. Ultimately, Agnarr and Iduna had to smash the doors with an axe and pickaxe. They quickly seized up the situation, took in the icy carnage and made some tough decisions on the spot. Tough decisions, for which, only Grand Pabbie could help them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the plot is in motion, after so long! I’m shit at writing, even though I improve steadily.  
> As always, constructive feedback is always welcome.
> 
> Until next time 😊.


	10. Felino the crooked nose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!  
> Well, the die has been cast, and Europe shall endure the consequences. Or will it?  
> Onward with the story :)  
> All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney. All I own is this retelling and some original characters.

February the 5th, 1828

‘You’re a frigid, wormy piece of shit, you know that?’, growled the recently anointed Tsar at the Arendellian Monarch. Not a good sign for the conference the concert of Europe had arranged; the Monarch of Arendelle was hellbent on closing his country yet again, and no one was willing to budge on their stance.

‘I care not for the impression you choose to have about me, your majesty. I have my reasons and my fears to support my decision. I have to do what I feel is best for my kingdom, as would you if you faced a decision of a similar magnitude.’ Agnarr stated his position calmly, even as he felt no genuine respect for the Russian Monarch. Unlike his late brother, Tsar Nicholas the first had no great capacity for empathy and understanding. He had chosen to keep himself and his people ignorant. After all, what could one say of the sovereign who treated his highest officials and closest advisors like the serfs he saw them to be, and the holy synod under him bragged openly about how it was their god given duty to keep the downtrodden as they were. Oh, how their man, Sergei Uvarov, the Tsar’s minister of education, openly declared: “If I can extend Russia’s childhood another fifty years I will consider my mission accomplished.”

Oh, the Tsar saw himself as a god, and a jealous one at that. Agnarr understood that and knew that as a fellow sovereign, the Tsar could do little but rant in his face for the insult. Even if he would want to wage war upon Arendelle, he wouldn’t wish to give up access to the only warm water seaport he had. Still, Agnarr’s worries were far greater than some disgruntled people in power.

Elsa had lost control of her powers and was crippled in her fear, Anna had been forced to selective amnesia from Grand Pabbie, leaving no trace of Elsa’s powers and Olva...well she hadn’t been so fortunate. Against the advice of Grand Pabbie, he and Iduna had insisted on the procedure of wiping her memory clean of Elsa’s powers and the accident. The hermit warned of the consequences he was facing now with Olva, but how was he to know in his panic and desperation? Now the poor girl had begun experiencing fits and severe headaches, along with bouts of fainting for several minutes. He hadn’t slept this past month properly in the worry of what could happen to his family. Now he had a solution, and he would not back off from it. He must protect his family in any way possible. He must.

‘Your majesties, please don’t antagonise each other. This concerns all of us. You’re not the only ones troubled here. King Agnarr, you’d best explain yourself.’, queen Sophia spoke firmly as she presided over the conference. Agnarr’s declaration had shocked everyone, and he was yet to provide an explanation.

‘Thank you, queen Sophia. I have no intent on stepping on anyone’s face or insulting anyone. This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.

And before you decide on persecuting war against me, ask yourselves this. Haven’t we had enough of war? We saw 2 decades of war followed by a decade of relative peace. If you ask me, I’d rather prefer the latter. I make this tough choice for the safety of all Europe, please understand.’

He paused to size up the room, who could be his allies and enemies hereafter. Corona and Austria-Hungary were definitely his allies; he knew Reginald would support him in the end. Weselton and the English would be against it; his partnership with them and America would be at risk, he’ll have to accommodate them somehow. Same was the situation with Russia. Maybe the Ottomans had to be brought in to keep Russia in check? Spain and the Southern Isles could be neutral; the Spanish could not care less, their main rivals were the English and the French, they would only vote as a formality. As for the Southern Isles were represented by queen Paulina, for the king had taken ill. On the surface, Paulina looked pleasant and charismatic, yet Agnarr knew that she would be a formidable and dangerous foe if he didn’t play this right. He began to speak again but was rudely interrupted. 

‘And what would be these insurgent elements? The Northuldra?’, asked the duke of Weselton. The room tensed at the duke’s blatant attempt towards badgering the king of Arendelle. Agnarr had to fight a very strong impulse towards bashing the duke’s head on the wall. After composing himself mentally, he replied with barely concealed intentions ‘Why, yes. They have been neglected for far too long. I must attempt to bring them up with the kingdom. They are too obscure and are getting discontent.’

‘Just the language your father used, didn’t he? And where is he now? Lost like the rest of them. I’m telling you; this country is a lost cause. The Northuldra are ‘discontent’? Don’t make me laugh. They’re out for your and your family’s blood. They have been for years.’, the duke was clearly enjoying himself at Agnarr’s expense.

‘And if I hope to pursue a peaceful solution and keep Europe out of the mess, what is so wrong with that, duke?’, Agnarr nearly spat out the last part.

‘It’s always something personal. What, a problem with _your_ kids now?’

‘Why, your uncouth son of a-‘

‘ENOUGH!’, the presiding queen roared. ‘That’s the second time you have tried to lay discord in the concert on purpose, duke. Once it was over my kidnapped child and now this. I swear, if it happens again, you’re going to meet your maker without warning, in front of everyone!’

‘I can’t believe you’re still going on about your bloody kid. She’s fucking dead! I always get enraged how the kings of Europe are disturbed about such trivial matters, and I’m to be punished because I call out the bullshit for what it is?! Fine. Hang, draw, and quarter me all you want, that does not change the fact that once again, some people are sullying the good name of the concert for their own interests.’, the duke spat venom without a care.

‘I’ve heard enough. Marshals, break the duke’s kneecaps.’, an enraged Sophia gave the cold order to her personal guard. The duke’s bravado melted away instantly, and he shrunk in his stature as the marshals came to deal with him.

‘Sophie, stop!’ King Reginald shouted.

‘Pray tell, what now, Reginald?’ his spouse was beyond annoyed by now.

The king of Corona whispered in his spouse’s ear ‘We’ll get the coward some other time. I need to talk sense into Agnarr somehow. I advise you to break for recess.’ A rare sight for the usually tempestuous king to calm down his calmer, more pragmatic wife.

Queen Sophia sighed heavily and announced a recess.

Once they were alone, Reginald confronted Agnarr ‘What’s gotten into you, Agnarr? You’re supposed to be the sensible one amongst us two.’ 

‘I’ll tell you what’s sensible. I should invade the fucking duchy of Weselton, lay it to fucking waste, burn it to the fucking ground, and salt the fucking remains barren forever!’ Agnarr snarled with uncharacteristic murder in his eyes.

‘Oh, calm down, crusader. I hate the duke much more than you do, believe me. Nevertheless, even I must agree with that poltroon over your course of action. It’s drastic and uncalled for. Tell me honestly what’s bothering you. We’ll make it right. Tell me.’

‘You don’t believe me? I told you every reason I have for doing this. My kingdom has only just recovered from the previous war. I can’t risk another. I certainly can’t afford it to become a pan-European conflict. At the end of the day, I just want my heir to inherit a stable state. An agitated group of people is not the hallmark of a stable state. Even if it takes me years, I must resolve this once and for all.’

Reginald spoke empathetically ‘Alright, but it still is a visceral reaction to the situation. I think foreign aid would only help more. Are you sure about it?’

Agnarr thought about telling the truth to his best friend, but ultimately decided otherwise; he couldn’t let the secret get out in any circumstance.

‘Yes I am. I also believe that those so-called insurgents are supplied by foreign powers themselves; they would like nothing more than to make my kingdom their colony. And that fucking Weselton shill... I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s behind the whole damn thing.’

‘That may be true, but without solid evidence, we can’t deal with him effectively. We must be sure.’ Reginald advised him.

‘Alright, but I can’t back down from my position. Yes, my kingdom will suffer in the short run, but I know we’ll be secure and united eventually.’

Ultimately, the concert decided that Arendelle would only keep one point of access open to the outside world; the main port. Only diplomats and special traders would be allowed. Every other traveller, from tourist to student would have to be barred from entering the country. It may cause uprising among the international students in his kingdom, but he’ll have to deal with them on his down. To preserve the security, the red tape for the traders and businessmen became very harsh. _All, in service towards protecting my family_ ; Agnarr thought.

* * *

_A week later_

A craven figure along with half a dozen guards floated in a rowboat towards one of the northern shores of Arendelle, beyond the mist. A hooded figure in silhouette waited for them on shore, heavily dressed to protect them self against the bitter February cold. Upon reaching the shore, the hooded bowed in respect and said ‘Welcome, honourable duke of Weselton. I hope your journey was pleasant enough.’

‘As pleasant a trip I could hope in stormy, waning winter, thank you for asking.’, the duke removed his cloak and coat to make his face more visible, and gestured his guards to disembark and stand around. The scrawny man took a moment to stretch himself, and at length, spoke ‘How many instances of forbidden people wandering into your grounds?’

‘Not as many as before, however a group of the Iceni tribe were intercepted in the valley of death during patrol two months ago and dealt with without exception. No survivors that we know of.’

‘Good, the illegals are dwindling, soon they would be no problem. However, as long as Arendelle stands, you’ll never be safe. We’ll have to confront them once and for all.’

‘Let’s continue our discussion on the way to camp, honourable duke.’

The Northuldrian camp was twenty-five kilometres inland from the seashore, but the spirits had grown very erratic in recent years, so the Northuldra had to find new routes to their homes every few weeks. The latest incident was particularly severe; a landslide had destroyed the usual detour they took, so they had to take the tributaries by another boat, a slower but safer way of travel.

‘Forgive me, honourable duke. I know travel by water does not agree with you.’

‘I’ll live. Tell me, how is everything holding up north of the mist?’

‘We’re eking out a living somehow. As you know, the rivers have been gradually changing course towards the south, our arable lands are going barren as a result. Adding to the problem, the rains are becoming scarcer with every passing year bit by bit. I regret to inform you that the poppy plantation is facing a loss, the raw material for the heroin would be short this time.’

‘It seems you’ve lost the plot, haven’t you? How will I get you your weapons if your end of the bargain is low? Weapons, armament, lumber and steam technology for ships don’t come cheap, you know?’ the duke said with the faux humility that masked grave threats underneath, and the hooded figure knew well what those threats were. Nevertheless, a low yield was not the biggest problem.

‘There’s more, honourable duke. Arendelle has tried to sue for peace and is willing to cooperate.’

‘Yes, I heard. We both know it’s nonsense.’

‘I’m not so sure. The terms they have offered seem rather reasonable.’

‘I’m sure they are. They may be too reasonable, I’m afraid. Implying something between the lines. The implication being disastrous for the Northuldra. If you ask me, I would never take any terms Europe offers at face value.’

‘I’m a fair sceptic of the south, just as you are. But since the rise of the mist, they have not engaged in any big skirmishes.’

The duke sighed and said ‘It pains me to say it, but you lack an ocean of imagination. There are uncountable ways to fight a war of attrition, and Arendelle has chosen the most insidious way.’

‘What do you mean, duke?’

‘I’d rather tell this to everyone at once, instead of making it a poor game of translation errors.’, with that, the duke fell silent, knowing full well that the hooded figure’s doubts had been flared up.

After a voyage of two hours, the party reached the camp. A huge crowd had gathered upon the riverbank where the canoe stopped. The hooded figure removed his hood and stood beside the Northuldra leader as her most trusted vassal. The Northuldra leader went by the name of Yelena, a woman moving towards middle age, standing barely above the duke in stature, but those aged eyes had seen many ups and downs. The leader slightly prostrated herself before the duke; the Northuldra way of showing respect towards authority.

‘Welcome, o duke! I hope your voyage was pleasant.’

‘As much as I could hope it to be. I must say, the Northuldra’s native lands grow more beautiful every time I venture up’ the duke said.

‘Your grace flatters us. I believe my trusted vassal has given you the lowdown for everything that has happened in the past three months. We’ll be happy to discuss a compromise for the goods you need.’

‘Thank you, your excellency. However, my worries include the survival of the Northuldra as well.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘You may have received terms from the king of Arendelle for a peaceful cessation in the past few days, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, they are more reasonable than I expected.’

‘I feared so, for if you paid attention, you’d realise that the terms are too positive. They’re willing to overlook the massacre of the group of Iceni that happened two months ago. Not to mention the fact that they may have stumbled about the truth about our trade operation as well.’

‘Speaking of the trade operation, what we may be short of in terms of goods, we’ll make up in plunder in the North Atlantic. I have sanctioned three fleets for the same purpose later this week.’

‘That is encouraging, but I must warn you, the plundering operation would become very difficult very soon. What with the king of Arendelle sealing the kingdom’s maritime and overland borders.’

‘Excuse me, come again?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you knew.’

‘No, I didn’t. Please enlighten us, your grace.’

‘Well, your excellency, the king of Arendelle has decided to isolate the country, and I quote his speech: “This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t, then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.” Now you tell me, is this the language a man would use while suing for peace?’

Yelena became quiet for a moment, taking in al the information. At length, she asked ‘What are the possible ramifications of this declaration?’

‘They could be numerous, but I’ll tell you the most obvious one. Within a month at the latest, the coasts would be dotted by the Arendellian navy, putting a blockade through which nothing except their own ships could get in or out. You can imagine they would be only too happy to hunt down your pirate ships before you’re able to secure any loot at all. You can’t raid through the land, as the mist is your most powerful jailer. It will surely be a stifling experience; I won’t deny it.’

‘What if we do sue for peace? If we sincerely send an envoy to the south?’

‘Aye, you could try that. In fact, I suggest you try that without fail.’ Interrupted a tall, dark man as he made his way inside Yelena’s tent.’

‘Mathias, just because the mist forces me to tolerate and learn to like your presence doesn’t mean you interrupt me in meetings about the matters of state.’ Yelena bristled with annoyance.

‘Believe me, once the mist lifts up, I’ll ride south, first thing on my to-do list.’

‘Mathias, you look familiar. Tall, dark, muscular, good posture. Does your Ethiopian father still till the grain and tan the leather shoes?’, making harsh, cutting remarks was a talent the duke used well.

‘No. Does the honourable duke take me for his wretched bastard slaves in the Congo?’ Mathias growled.

‘Gentlemen, please. Your grace, please don’t mind Mathias. Yes, he’s a southerner. He was in king Runeard’s personal guard from what I gather. He may look brutish and imposing, but he’s harmless and dare I say, a halfway decent man. He doesn’t usually interrupt one of my meetings, so this instance must be special. Tell us big boy, what should bother us?’ Yelena finished as she turned to Mathias.

‘I’m sorry. I’m not willing to entertain the stories of a deserter.’, the duke said nonchalantly.

‘As if your pip squeakiness has ever been in a battle to judge a trapped prisoner of war?’ Mathias seethed.

‘See, even he agrees, we’re at war.’ _Oh, they were all playing right into my hands,_ the duke thought with glee.

‘Yes, and now peace must be made. Yelena, this is not the time to go on the offensive. Trust me.’ Mathias faced Yelena as he settled down beside her.

‘Maybe, but it is a peace we would be forced into. We want it on our own terms, Mathias. I understand you’re homesick, but we haven’t had a home to go back to for decades. We will assert our terms onto the king, and he will have to accept it. If he doesn’t, it’s war.’

‘Lofty words, your excellency. Alas, there’s no substance or weight to back your words. You’ll be blockaded soon, and travel by land is impossible anyhow. I suggest you make a permanent settlement here and be done with it.’, the duke laid the bait.

‘And perpetually disturb the peace of the spirits by claiming their sacred forest? Never.’, and Yelena took it.

‘Well, I can’t negotiate such a big difference in your quantity of goods. You’ll have to offer me something if I must continue supporting your struggle. What about lumber from the forest?’

‘You must be reading a fucking comedy. When we refuse to make a permanent settlement in the forest, YOU PROCEED TO SUGGEST SOMETHING FAR WORSE?!’, Mathias had half a mind to strangle the duke right there, when he was stopped by Yelena.

‘Sit down, Mathias! We’re in desperate times. We’ll have to do what we must in order to survive.’

‘Making a bad situation worse is survival?! Can you imagine or fathom withstanding the rage of the spirits if we cut down the forest?! How can you even consider this, Yelena?’

‘If I may ease your concerns, I’ll vouch for the fact that a sacred relic commands a lot of value in the market. Especially amongst those who are powerful, proud, wealthy and don’t ask too many questions. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll introduce a tiny amount in the market. People would recognize it as sacred or magical with plenty of history behind it. Once I do that, I can manipulate the price for it and bring you all the money, all the weapons, all the ships you need.’, the duke reassured the Northuldra leader.

Yelena spoke at length ‘Alright, I agree to the venture. Let’s begin with ten logs.’

Mathias hung his head in defeat and nursed his forehead, which had begun to throb. _This is not going to end well._

Yelena tried to comfort him after the duke left ‘Listen, for every tree we cut down, we’ll plant ten, I promise.’

‘Even if you do that, it won’t be the sacred forest of the fifth spirit anymore.’ Mathias said ruefully.

As the duke made his way to the ship waiting off the coast on his rowboat, one of his taciturn guards asked him ‘Your grace, why do we need these bunch of sheep worshippers?’

The duke grinned darkly ‘When a rival nation is at war with itself, best let it consume itself.’

* * *

_Around the same time, somewhere in northern Greece_

‘Rider, move your ass and get over here!’ A portly man called out as he wiped a greasy hand on his apron.

‘Coming, Elios!’ Flynn came running in. He was now a man of seventeen; having seen a fair bit of the world by now and had been working with Elios for a few months. Elios had hidden Flynn to save him from ‘The Hawk’, a notorious smuggler who had trapped him in his ring. In return, Flynn agreed to work for him in his front business.

‘Why must I go through this fucking chore every time? To have to call you up like a fucking parade float to just do your blessed job?’

‘I’m sorry for being two minutes late. I already did the prep for tonight; the bar has been cleaned and stocked. I just took a nap, calm your tits.’

‘I’ve heard that many times, give me something new Flynn’ Elios rolled his eyes.

‘What do you think I’ve been doing? Making merry around the city square? Come on, I know better than that.’

‘Don’t bother lying to me. I swear, one of those women is gonna make you the sacrificial goat someday.’

‘Alright, I heard your speech. Got it, can we move on?’

Elios wiped some sweat off his forehead and asked, ‘You know who’s coming tonight?’

‘Yeah I do, friends loyal to the Greek cause.’ Flynn answered without faltering

‘Not just any friend, mind you. The Gent is coming along with the Sicilians.’

Flynn’s ears perked up at that piece of news. The Gent was a legend in Northern Greece, almost singlehandedly forming the on-land resistance against the Ottomans in the Greek war of independence. He had been involved in the resistance for nearly seven years now and was lobbying for foreign support.

‘Wow, that’s a hero if I ever saw one.’

‘I told you I’ll introduce you to him soon. Today’s the day.’

‘Now, why would he visit an affluent restaurant filled with Turks day in and out, I’m sure I don’t know.’ Flynn stated incuriously.

‘Hey Flynn, let his people worry about it. I’m sure his people would be clever enough to figure it out.’ Elios was a practical man who knew the streets well, however, forethought was not his strongest suit.

‘No, Elios. Hear me out. If the Gent is ambushed here, we’re done for. Everything will be up for grabs and I know neither of us would like the prick of the cold sabre chopping our necks. And if we know The Gent is coming, the officials certainly know. And if the Sicilians find out, you’ll end up wearing concrete shoes, old boy. You may know the gutters and the roads, but I know loyalty.’

‘What do you suppose we do now? We can’t really serve them in public view.’

‘That is true. Tell you what, let’s clear the cellar for their dinner. I’m sure they don’t want any outsider to hear what they are discussing amongst themselves. Also, I think you should serve them personally, Elios.’

‘No can do. I’m the front. If I don’t stay there, they’ll investigate. You’ll have to serve them yourself. I’m sorry Flynn. The Gent trusts me, if he sees that I consider you worthy, he’ll be comfortable.’

‘But I don’t know the first thing about him and the others. What if I offend them without meaning to?’

‘Don’t be stupid, Flynn. We both know you know better than that. If the service is good, they’ll fill your pockets with enough dosh to set you up for years. If I truly know you, you wouldn’t miss this opportunity for the world.’

‘Alright, I’ll do it. Say Elios, what if I warm them personally first about the last-minute change of scenery?’

‘No. I’ll have to warn them myself. Set the cellar up. I did contact them two days ago; I’ll do it again.’

‘Just make sure you’re not followed.’

‘Hey Rider, who knows the street better?’

‘You do, clearly.’

‘Yup. I’ll be back soon.’

A few hours later, a party of people showed up. There was the Gent, a tall slender man, worn down by the hiding and fighting. His face was warm enough, save for the green eyes that could bore holes through the Earth, and a crooked mouth that had a scare across the top lip. Still, he felt like a man who could fight forever. As for the Sicilians, they were something else entirely.

It was a band of seven people. The man most fancily dressed, along with the ruby ring on his little finger and the gold watch and chain, was obviously the leader. The six were presumably his bodyguards, each one burlier and more imposing that the last, looking like killers happy to kill a priest in the middle of a sermon. Ruthless and royal. Dressed to the nines up to their plug caps.

Flynn suddenly felt dwarfed and puny.

‘Gentlemen, this is Flynn, he’s been working with me for a few months, he’ll be serving you tonight.’ Elios gave a short introduction and left. Flynn gave a short bow, not sure how to address these powerful men.

‘What’s your name, green boy?’ The Gent

‘Flynn.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Going to be seventeen next month.’

‘You’re not from around these parts, are you? Your accent tells me....Austria Hungary?’

‘No sir, Corona. The Rhinelands, to be exact.’ 

‘Uh huh. How’d you end up in Greece?’

‘War orphan from the Napoleonic wars, pushed around all of Europe, ended up here.’ By now, Flynn knew the story by heart. 

‘My condolences. Ok Flynn, you’re going to undergo something unpleasant. Forgive me, just the nature of these times. I need to be sure of your loyalty.’

Before Flynn could reply, one of the goons was upon him, almost choking him with his weight, pressing down on his spine. Even if Flynn had any wind left him, he couldn’t yell.

‘Answer me, why was the room changed at such short notice?’

‘When the Gent asks, you better fucking answer, figlio di sfagato!’

‘Get off him, let him speak.’ The goon got off at once.

Flynn coughed and gasped for air. When he could breathe normally, he said weakly , ‘Mr. Gent, it was Mr. Elios who suggested it.’ Flynn barely finished his sentence before receiving a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of him.

‘That’s a lie. Elios is not that big a thinker. You seem to be smarter than you let on. Why’d you try to protect us from the Turks?’

‘I didn’t want them to kill you here. That would be underhanded and filthy. I’ve heard....heard that you believe in engaging them head on, I didn’t want them to ambush you. You’re a hero around here, would be a shame if I couldn’t do my bit for your cause.’ Flynn was hit yet again by the goon, this time in his nose. Blood had begin ebbing from his mouth and nose.

‘You’ve said enough. I can guess the rest of the story. Either betray the Turks and face the sabre or betray us and face getting shot in the face. Why choose us over them?’

‘I gambled here.....I’d rather be loyal to someone fighting the slavers for freedom than the slaver themselves.’ Flynn braced himself for another hit, but the hit never came.

Instead he could hear a chuckle from the Sicilian leader, who had gestured his goon to stand down. He approached Flynn and held him by the cheek, saying in thick accent, ’Felino. That’s your name from now on. Felino the crooked nose. Drinks on the house, all night. Keep the drinks up, you’ll be richer than the sultan come morning. Good boy.’

The leader, or don as they were calling him now, lightly tapped his cheek and went back to his place, settling down with the Gent and the other goons. Flynn left the room and almost crumpled on the floor. _I could’ve died there,_ he thought for a second. Nevertheless, he composed himself and put on his charm; Felino the crooked nose had a job to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, the duke of Weselton’s such a bastard, always stirring up shit wherever he goes lol. I love the potential his character has.  
> Our Man Flynn is serving the big boys now! What could happen?  
> Thanks again to those who continue reading this silly story :P  
> As always, constructive feedback is always welcome!


	11. If it takes forever, then I'll walk forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> Let’s continue, shall we?   
> This chapter is strictly based in Arendelle, unlike the last few chapters.  
> All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> Let’s continue, shall we?   
> This chapter is strictly based in Arendelle, unlike the last few chapters.  
> All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney.

_Iduna had noticed a change in herself; she had never been so weary as she felt now. Worry had become a staple state of existence for her. The trio, as her three daughters called, had been shattered. There was a time when they were inseparable; Anna, Olva and Elsa walking hand in hand, a bunch of peas in the same pod._

_That was when life was easy, but what a difference a single incident makes._

_Her mind raced back to when she saw the carnage; the ballroom floor solidified into an ugly amalgamation of snow and ice. Elsa’s ice had always been beautiful but then, in that ill moment, it flashed the white light of doom and destruction. As for her children, they were there, two of them unconscious, a massive cracked debris of ice, a snowman reduced to fine powder. And there Elsa was, holding her fainted sisters wailing to the sky and constricted by terror. With Anna having a streak of white across her hair, and Olva’s right side marred by scars from the sharp ice._

_She remembered feeling grotesque by the spoils; how Agnarr had to hatchet through the door held firm by the ice. The fragments of her family fallen prey to a probable moment of panic; a moment of ill moment. This was a cold worse than winter._

_She remembered how she and Agnarr had to gallop on their royal steeds as they never had, in that moment she felt as if she was on a death wish, trying to rein in her horse and holding fast her two injured children. She had known this would happen, and she let it happen._

_Grand Pabbie warned her, she should have been more careful._

_Elsa shouldn’t have panicked._

_And yet, there they were, about to reach the lair of the stonepeople._

_She remembered how Grand Pabbie was not pleased ‘Every time Your Majesties choose to grace us with your presence, it always disrupts our winter meditation. Sometimes, I am forced to believe that you are wishing for a polar event.’_

_‘Forgive us please Grand Pabbie, we seriously need your help and guidance, there’s been an accident.’ Agnarr pleaded as he’d never done before._

_‘An accident with your firstborn’s powers? For why my aid would be needed otherwise?’_

_‘Grand Pabbie, my children’s lives are at stake, you must help us, we have nowhere else to go.’ The king ignored the irreverence._

_Grand Pabbie relented ‘Apologies for my annoyance, Your Majesties. Tell me everything.’_

_Iduna remembered telling Grand Pabbie everything, or at least what she could understand from what Elsa had managed to tell her between sobs._

_The hermit of half rock-moss and half flesh answered quickly and definitively; it was imperative to reverse the effects of Elsa’s powers; else the victims could freeze into solid ice. Grand Pabbie reassured them; they were lucky it was the head, not the heart. One could fool the head, but the heart was another matter entirely; the heart required a genuine act of love and sacrifice, those were hard to come by. As for Olva, it was more towards shock and blunt force trauma, they had done a disservice to her by bringing her there, while she should have been resting. Iduna felt personally responsible for that; she had insisted the whole family to go._

_‘Grand Pabbie, what about the powers themselves? Is there any hope?’_

_Grand Pabbie turned to directly face Elsa; the great golem like hermit moved slowly but with purpose towards the little platinum blonde girl. The girl couldn’t help but stare at his presence; someone who didn’t emote much, but his feelings were remarkably easy to understand and notice regardless. In that moment she saw sympathy and pity; It was something she’d never seen before. She realized that didn’t like that feeling at all._

_‘Your poor child of destiny, how one must step up to face the world regardless of age and be brought to reality. I’m sorry it was so sudden and such an unfortunate circumstance for you. Your powers would only grow from here on, to command the forces of nature akin to the ancient giants. Bringing joy and relief to those who need it.’, Grand Pabbie stated as he manipulated a few wisps in his hand to show an eight-headed star glowing blue and bright._

_‘However, the power would also bring terror and fear and loss of control as they assert themselves, which would lead to your doom and destruction.’ Grand Pabbie continued as the star collapsed upon itself, crumbling into a red mass of death, smothered by red fire and smoke and a bright, shining sword coming straight for her. Elsa had to hide into her father’s arms from the horror._

_‘The only thing you must fear is fear itself. It is your greatest enemy.’ The hermit finished as the wisps trailed off into nothingness._

_‘What now, Grand Pabbie? Is she done for?’ Iduna asked worriedly._

_‘I have just told you how she may combat the challenges she faces; she can’t succumb to fear. I would advise to help her build trust with a few close people and help her naturally experience and embrace her powers. She cannot be made to feel like a monster. She must be dealt with empathy and compassion. As for the other two of your daughters, for Anna I would need to induce some slight amnesia, because her mind is a little too fragile to understand it. However, Anna must be made to understand soon, this is a temporary measure, she can’t be kept in the dark forever. For Olva, as she wasn’t directly struck with Elsa’s powers, she doesn’t need any procedure, but she does need to be cared for very carefully, we don’t know how she may react to certain things yet. It may manifest as anything, she may experience pain, fainting, lash out in anger, or worse turn unfeeling towards everyone. Or maybe she wakes up unscathed. Regardless, I hope you can help her meaningfully. Please don’t treat this lightly, it is imperative.’_

_Iduna was at a loss for words; how would she and Agnarr manage it all? As for Agnarr, he was lost in thought, putting his intuition to practice. At length Agnarr spoke, ‘What if Olva has amnesia induced as well?’. Grand Pabbie was taken aback, he almost looked offended, ‘Your Majesty, that is a very irresponsible thing to ask. How can you even consider it? If I try inducing amnesia upon her mind, it may induce unprecedented effects, it may even worsen her recovery. Please don’t ask me to do it.’_

_‘I order you to do it.’ Agnarr put his foot down._

_Grand Pabbie could not resist now, it was an order, even if it was from a monarch acting out of character._

_‘Alright, Your Majesty, I’ll do as you say. Little dark-haired one, forgive this poor servant of nature, for he has to do something terrible.’ With that, Grand Pabbie put a heavy hand upon Olva’s forehead. The unconscious girl woke up at once, as if in a trance and screamed into the pale moonlight, a sharp contrast to how Anna took it. But then magic to counter magic was usual, magic to answer for something blunt, not so much._

_Iduna remembered how Elsa stood there in shock, how she wanted to shut her eyes but couldn’t; how she herself had to close her eyes and grab on to her family, she couldn’t bear to watch it._

_The procedure was over at long last, when Olva fell unconscious again, drained from the ordeal and turning pale, as if a certain glow had been taken from her body._

_Elsa only asked one question ‘They won’t remember that I have powers?’_

_‘It is for the best.’ Agnarr said._

_Looking back at that moment, Iduna felt that she should have raised her voice and tried Agnarr to see sense. Alas, that moment was past._

_Now, Agnarr had been gone almost a month, shoring up alliances to help despite the blockade. She had to face them all alone. She had to take charge, she couldn’t abandon the kingdom, or her family. Even so, sitting through the meetings was tedious, especially when she had to explain and defend every move in front of the council, who didn’t consider the blockade popular at all._

_To say nothing of facing her daughters, how many times must she lie to them? The mere thought exhausted her-_

* * *

‘Ma!’ Anna’s voice could be heard from across the hall as it broke Iduna’s chain of thought.

‘Yes dear?’

‘Why won’t Elsie come out? Is she not feeling well?’ Anna asked.

‘No, she’s fine, why do you say that?’

‘It’s that she’s avoiding me. When I asked her to come out and play, she flat out said no. Did I do something wrong?’

_Bless her innocence._

‘She’s worried about something; I am helping her with it. I promise she’ll be better soon.’ _Shit, that was a mistake._

‘I know she’ll be better Ma, but she hasn’t come out to play in so long! Winter’s about to end soon, I don’t want to miss the last snow of the season.’ Anna said with a frown.

‘She has to take her studies seriously, you know, one day she must lead. You want her to do well, don’t you?’ _It felt icky tricking her child like that, but it was for the greater good. Moreover, there was some truth in it._

‘Yes, I do, but it’s like she’s gone away. I don’t know if she’d come out again.’ Anna said with a choked tone.

‘What about Olva? Didn’t she play with you?’

‘Yes, but I don’t know what’s happened to her. I mean, we still had quite some fun, but we did miss Elsa. Then suddenly, Olva started screaming, shouting ‘my head, my head!’ then fainted, I had to call the help. Didn’t you hear, Ma?’ Anna said

 _Now, that was news to her. What kind of a mother was she? The kind who half-heartedly juggles everything and fails,_ Iduna reflected bitterly _. Oh, I wish Agnarr was here._

‘I heard, she’s in the infirmary, I thought she had a bruise, I didn’t know she fainted.’ _Another half lie, great._

‘Also, she’s grown, I don’t know, more angry? She always has a frown on her face. She wasn’t like that earlier, she used to crack jokes, dance around, Ma. Now she just sits blank for a long time. I had to shake her to get her attention. Is she alright?’, the little princess was obviously bewildered.

‘I’ll sit with her, don’t worry. She’ll be fine, I promise.’ _Making promises was becoming a bad habit._

‘Now, it’s getting late Anna. Come, I’ll take you to your room’

‘I don’t want to sleep in there, it feels so empty since Elsa and Olva moved out.’ Anna moaned.

‘Come on, don’t do this.’

‘Ma, can I sleep in your room tonight? I don’t want to be alone.’ Anna asked, with a sad expression.

‘Alright, come with me.’ Iduna sighed.

One mother and daughter had settled in their room, Anna asked ‘Tell me a story.’

‘Anna, please go to sleep.’

‘Ma I remember you promising us when we were ready, that you’ll tell each one of us a story. I want to listen to mine, I think I’m ready.’ 

Iduna looked at Anna, knowing exactly what she could do. _The least I can do is prepare here for the worst._

Iduna began her story:

_It was the story of Isabel, who wanted to go to France. She’d spent virtually her entire childhood dreaming about it. As the daughter of a wealthy colonial governor, she grew up with every luxury available to 1700s Ecuador, but in her young mind, it was nothing compared to the magic of France. In her teens, her dream began to come into focus. A dashing young Frenchman, Jean Godin des Odonais, came to town on an expedition. Isabel took to him immediately, and by all accounts, Jean was equally in love with her. They married within the year._

_A few years later, with Jean’s work wrapped up, they made plans to move to France. Jean went ahead to arrange passports and travel across the Atlantic. He was to return for Isabel and their unborn child—the only one of four who’d live past childhood. He thought he’d be gone two years. He was gone for twenty. Because Spain and Portugal ran South America (and neither were allies with France), they wouldn’t let Jean make the return trip. He couldn’t even get letters to Isabel; he could barely get them to Europe. And when his letters begging for passage did make it to Spain and Portugal, they were mired in red tape, not moving anywhere. He tried everything he could think of to reunite with Isabel, getting so desperate that he tried instigating war between France and Portugal._

_His efforts were unsuccessful; he spent two long decades almost going crazy trying to get to her, and she had no idea. Still, Isabel waited. Even as neighbours said Jean wasn’t coming back. Even as her daughter grew into a woman. Even as her family fell on hard times. She waited and waited and waited, until her daughter died of smallpox._

_She had been nineteen and never got to meet her father._

_So, Isabel stopped waiting, and based on the hearsay that Jean was still alive, left to find him. Joining together a group of 42 people, she set off to reunite with her husband on an incredibly dangerous journey. The group included her two brothers, her nephew, her servant, Joaquim, some maids, a doctor, and several native porters._

_The 3,000-mile route, which wound around an active volcano, across ramshackle wooden bridges, and through the heart of the Amazon jungle, had only been done by a handful of groups before. They estimated it would take six months. The group started dwindling when they found an abandoned village. It had been ravaged by smallpox and burned to the ground. The porters fled immediately. The group continued in a canoe down a flooding river, although none of them knew how to canoe or swim. Isabel nearly drowned, and they lost many of their supplies. They soon ended up at a sandbar, where they split up. The doctor’s small group took the boat and continued, promising to send back help. But after two weeks with no rescue in sight, Isabel, her brothers, and her nephew built a raft and set off downriver. The raft sank almost immediately, taking their supplies with it._

_They continued on foot, with Isabel finally switching from frilly dresses to her brother’s spare trousers. They walked into thick jungle without food, direction, or sunlight. There they became a playground for wasps, scorpions, fire ants, and many things worse. The carpets of flies refused them sleep. The jungle refused them food._

_Four weeks, they walked. And they began to die._

_First her nephew._

_Then her brother._

_Then her other brother._

_Until Isabel was the only one left._

_Isabel had lost everything. Her children, her home, her family. Twenty long years of heartbreak, weighing her down. And so, she lay down on the jungle floor, curled up next to her brother, and waited to die._

Anna was in tears at this point and asked, ‘Please tell me she’s going to be fine.’ Then proceeded to come closer to Iduna, her face buried into Iduna’s arms.

‘Let’s find out, little one’ Iduna said and continued:

_But try as she might, she could not die. Even as she began to slip away, a voice called out to her, a voice that would not let her go to sleep, that talked of tasks unfinished and duties undone._

_It was the voice of her dear Jean. He said, “Get up, Isabel.” And slowly, she began to crawl forward._

_After eight days alone, she stumbled across some native hunters, and immediately collapsed. Over the next month, they nursed her back to health, ridding her of botflies and other parasites. Her hair had turned permanently grey. Her hand was crippled. But she was alive. She gave them two gold necklaces, and set about freeing her servant, Joaquim, from jail, as he’d been suspected of murdering her._

_Six months later, for the first time in 21 years, on a boat on the Oyapock River, Isabel Godin saw her husband._

_They sailed to Europe three years later, and in her beloved French countryside, she lived a quiet, long, happy life._

* * *

Anna breathed a sigh of relief ‘Oh thank goodness! Poor Isabel, she went through a lot!’

‘Yes, she did, baby mine.’

‘Why did her daughter have to die? It’s not fair. She was completely alone near the end.’

‘Life’s not very fair, as you’ll find out soon. Moreover, she did it all for love. She held faith that she would meet her trapped love someday.’

‘Hmm, I guess. But why did she suffer so much, Ma?’

‘As you know, not a lot of people are as well off as we are, they would struggle in their lives if trapped in this manner. But Isabel rose to the occasion, made a big sacrifice and found peace and happiness in the end.’

‘Ma, if Elsa or Olva are in such trouble, would I be able to do the same?’

‘That’s a question you’ll have to answer yourself. I can’t answer it for you, I’m sorry.’

‘I think I’d do the same. If they’re in any such event, I’d follow beyond doubt to help or rescue them. And, if it takes forever, then I’d walk forever.’ Anna declared as she caressed her white streak of hair.

 _God bless you, poor child,_ Iduna thought as she tucked Anna in for the night and bid her good night.

With that done, she made a beeline for the infirmary where she found Dr Klaus keeping Olva under observation.

‘Your Majesty, please come in.’ said the weary doctor as he straightened his coat and rose from his seat.

‘Oh, don’t mind me. How’s Olva doing?’

‘She’s better now. However, earlier she was in a state of intermittent consciousness. When she was awake, she was describing a most terrible headache. I believe she used the phrase “A knife of ice carving inside her head.” The doctor told as he checked his notes on the dark-haired princess.

‘Furthermore, she also mentioned seeing a pale blue light, atop a high mountain in her vision. At that point she had begun to grow agitated and almost had a fit. I had to give her brandy to sedate her. She should be fine and wake up in the morning. Still, it would be wise to be alert. ’ The doctor finished.

‘Oh no, doctor. What’ll happen now?’ Iduna asked with fear.

‘It’s still early stages. From what I understand so far, the trauma from the accident may have triggered something dormant into activity. We must not treat this callously; she must be treated with utmost care. She needs to feel safe.’

‘I understand Dr. Klaus, but these headaches have persisted for more than a month now, and they only grow worse. What shall we do?’

‘I would suggest help her find a distraction, a hobby, something she can engage with, something that soothes her.’

‘I understand, thank you Dr. Klaus.’ Iduna said as she planted a small kiss on Olva’s forehead and turned to leave.

‘Your Majesty, what about princess Elsa? How’s she coping? This must be hard on her.’

‘She’s grown quiet and withdrawn, I’m trying my hardest to get her connected back to us.’

‘Try harder, your majesty.’, with that, the doctor made his leave and went back to observe princess Olva. 

As the queen made her way back to her chambers, she found Elsa’s room to be slightly open. Taking advantage of the ajar door, she went silently inside Elsa’s room. What she saw, she would remember for a long time. 

Her daughter was fast asleep, but her room was a mess. There was snow and ice on edge of every cupboard, windowsill or even the ceiling. It was clear that she had clearly tried to hold it in and failed. There may have been a struggle, she had tried to dig in the floor, but her efforts ended in vain, and she had deflected a blast of ice at the wall, the same bluish-white stain as usual. It had been ages since Iduna could remember Elsa making anything beautiful from her ice. This was fear, completely driving her powers.

Iduna suddenly noticed her daughter’s hands; there were bruises in her palms, clearly from her attempt to dig in her hands to prevent her powers from leaking. On Elsa’s face were the dry marks of tears shed a while ago; the poor princess had cried herself to sleep.

Iduna realized tearfully, _Elsa needs more help._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we’re getting to Do you want to build a snowman?, that weapon of mass emotional destruction. But as always, the world is happening around them, and they must keep up!  
> And yes, Isabel’s story is absolutely true, and Anna’s mantra “If it takes forever, then I’ll walk forever” is on brand. More power to Anna, I say.  
> As always, constructive feedback is always welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was an experience, to say the least!
> 
> all constructive feedback is appreciated. looking forward to developing this story into an epic :D


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